


King of Hearts

by broadwaybound, Wholocked



Category: Sherlock (TV), johnlock - Fandom
Genre: Alpha Sherlock, Alpha!Sherlock, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Johnlock - Freeform, Johnlock Fluff, M/M, Omega John, Omega Verse, Omega!John, Omegalock, Omegaverse, Parentlock, Parentlock AU, Sherlock AU, johnlock au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-17
Updated: 2015-11-20
Packaged: 2018-02-25 16:53:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 43,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2629211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/broadwaybound/pseuds/broadwaybound, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wholocked/pseuds/Wholocked
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prince John is forced into an arranged marriage with Prince Sherlock of the neighboring kingdom and neither is keen about the prospect. Neither wants to be bonded to the other and tempers fly until they decide to take the risk of having a future together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Wedding Night

**Author's Note:**

> This is an RP that I've been writing with my RP partner for a little over a year now and we've finally decided to post it. I'd like to give credit to whoever it was that gave me the original prompt on Omegle. The first couple paragraphs are not mine save for the slight grammatical adjustments. This story has also developed leaps and bounds over the past year so please suspend your disbelief with us. Our time period goes from a sort of non-specific historical period to modern day (which it is now staying at) and since it's our AU and our little world to play in, we've added things, like Disney World, to the country that otherwise might not be there. When we first began this I was still learning about Omegaverse so please bear with us. I hope you enjoy it and please comment!
> 
> -broadwaybound

Prince John of the Second Kingdom, had never expected to be arranged into a marriage. He was a prince, granted the second child and not the future king, but he had expected to spend his life as a commander in the army. But then his father informed him that he had accepted on behalf of John the hand of the future king of the First Kingdom, whom John had never met before. John had protested, but his father pointed out that he was an Omega and it was his duty to make a great alliance with an Alpha prince or princess. "You should be honored the great Holmes family has picked you," he had said, and John couldn't fight his father's wishes—he was King after all. So that was how he had ended up shipped off to a faraway kingdom, away from everything he had ever known or loved, dressed in wedding clothes, and became the prince consort to the future king, ready for a future of bearing his children and being by his side. 

John had barely even seen Prince Sherlock after the ceremony; he was constantly surrounded by court members who wanted to meet their new prince. And now he was in the most ornate bedroom he had ever been in, waiting for Sherlock to join him. Nerves were clawing at John's stomach as he looked down at his all white ensemble. None of this felt right. He had dreamed of fighting in the army, but now it would never be realized, all his training for naught. It was all too late now, for the doorknob was turning and John was about to be alone in a room with his new husband for the first time.

Sherlock hated having to marry. He was uninterested in relationships in general, and had thrown a massive fit when his father had told him that he had selected an Omega prince for him. He knew he was expected to have heirs, but he would have preferred to simply have an Omega for a single heat and have one child so he wouldn’t have to bother with the whole ordeal. He’d barely taken the time to look at the Omega his father had picked for him to marry, already convinced that he was the typical brainless prince. The prince had never expected to be King, and so he would not have paid attention in his lessons. Sherlock was already determined that he would have as little to do with his new husband as possible. He scowled at the door to his chamber, not at all happy with what he would be expected to do now that they would be alone together. Sex was messy and he couldn’t see what the appeal was. Eventually, he decided he could no longer stand in the hall and opened the door to his bedroom.

John turned his head at the sound of the large oak door creaking open and he quickly stood. “Y-Your Highness,” he said nervously, giving a short bow. Fantasizing about this night was all well and good, but with Sherlock standing before him, all sense of standing up to the man had flown out of his head.

 

“Don’t bother with that rubbish,” Sherlock scowled, waving for the Omega to stand up. “Well? Let’s get on with it. The sooner we get started the sooner we’ll be finished.”

 

John straightened and swallowed thickly. He knew very little of the man standing before him and had only heard rumors—bad rumors at that. They said Sherlock was cruel and ruthless. He didn’t have many friends at court and most people stayed as far away from him as possible. John had no idea why, but whatever the reason, it couldn’t be good.

 

Sherlock threw himself down on his bed, careless of his wedding clothes and looked over at the Omega. “This is the part where we have sex, correct? What are you just standing there for? Are you that dense?”

 

John shook his thoughts away and sat down on the bed next to his new husband. “No, I’m not dense,” he replied quickly. “I’m just nervous is all.”

 

“I don’t see why. From my experience, most princes and princesses have no right to wear the so-called ‘virginal white.’ Surely you’ve done this many times before.”

 

John visibly bristled at that. “No. I may be a prince, but I’m also an Omega. We’re supposed to be kept pure for our future Alphas.”

 

“Like that actually happens,” Sherlock said with an indignant laugh. “You wouldn’t believe the amount of Omegas who have thrown themselves at me and begged me to take them.”

 

“You’re a very lucky Alpha,” John said in an attempt to appease him. In truth, he was disgusted by Sherlock and his pompous attitude. Maybe that was why everyone hated him. He had an inflated ego. 

 

“Hardly. All brainless idiots. Not worth my time. And sex,” Sherlock shuddered. “Sex is not something I enjoy. Feel free to find another to aid you during your heats once you’ve given me an heir.”

 

John swallowed thickly and looked away. “Right,” he said bitterly. So there would be no love for him here, not that he got much of that at home either, but his final chance had just been crushed. He detested the man and wanted nothing to do with him. “I suggest we begin then so we never have to see each other again.”

 

“That’s what I’ve been saying since I walked in,” Sherlock said, beginning to unbutton his shirt and undress. “I knew you’d be just like all the others… dull.”

“Dull!” John laughed ironically, turning back to face him. “That’s what you think? You don’t even know the first thing about me!”

 

Sherlock shrugged and threw his shirt to the floor. “I know enough. You’re an Omega prince, second born. Supposedly well educated, but probably only paid attention to the military lessons given that’s what you thought you’d be doing with your life. Not knowledgeable about most other subjects. You already don’t like me, which is fine with me. I don’t like people and people don’t like me. If I wasn’t required to have an heir and my father hadn’t insisted, I wouldn’t have taken an Omega and I would certainly not have sex or children. You, however, want them and I don’t care whose they are as long as the first is mine.

 

John stared at him in stunned silence, rage and betrayal burning through him. Rage at this man for viewing him as a piece of livestock, nothing more than a horse to be ridden, and betrayal by his own father. “You may know _about_ me, but you will never know who I _truly_ am.”

 

“No, I don’t think I will. As I said, I don’t like people and people don’t like me. I’m sure you’ll be no different. I wouldn’t blame you, honestly. Apparently I’m a freak of nature, ask any of the members of the court,” Sherlock spat.

 

“But do they truly know?” John raised an eyebrow.

 

“Of course not! They’re all idiots. They’re boring and I cannot stand being bored. It drives me mad,” he told John. “I’d rather be in the library.”

 

“Then maybe you aren't a freak. I don't know you so I can't make an accurate assessment.”

 

Sherlock tilted his head slightly, trying to hide his surprise. “You're the first person who's come to court who didn't automatically believe what everyone said.”

 

“Not so dull now, am I?” he smirked.

 

“No, not quite so dull now.” Sherlock hadn't met anyone who intrigued him in years. He tried not to get too excited; John would probably become boring quickly once he had found out all of his secrets.

 

"So...” John trailed off, swallowing quickly. It was nice to actually talk to the /man/ and not the facade he was obviously trying so hard to keep. He didn't know how to proceed. He looked down at the bed and traced an absentminded circle on the down comforter with his fingertips.

 

“I believe we need to finish undressing,” Sherlock said. He wasn't looking forward to this. Sex had never appealed to him, it just wasn't something he had never wanted to do, and now he was expected to induce John's heat and spend the next several days in bed with him. He was panicking to say the least.

 

“Right,” John nodded before turning his back and beginning to unbutton the ceremonial wedding clothes he had been wearing from earlier.

 

Sherlock continued to undress and laid back against his bed, waiting for John to be finished. He honestly had no idea hat he was supposed to do, and he didn't like the feeling being unsure gave him.

 

John finished undressing and sat back down, too afraid to turn around fully and unsure of how to act. He just wanted the nightmare to be over.

 

“I've... I've never done this before...” Sherlock admitted reluctantly.

 

“What?” John turned his head. “But you just said that countless Omega's have thrown themselves at you.”

 

“I never took them up on it. I didn't want to spend my time with people who couldn't think for themselves, and like I said I find the idea of sex messy and uninteresting,”

Sherlock said.

 

“Well then,” John sighed. “I suppose we're on the same level then. No need to be scared.”

 

“I'm not scared,” Sherlock huffed indignantly. “I'm just... inexperienced.”

 

John laughed softly at Sherlock's annoyance and gave a small, nervous smile. “H-How should we begin...?”

 

“I believe I have to bite your neck first to start your heat... then instinct takes over,” he said uncertainly.

 

“We'll be bonded,” John nodded slowly. “I don't know how you'll manage to have nothing to do with me then. Bonds are supposedly very strong.”

 

“I didn't know that...” Sherlock said, going a bit pale. He didn't want to be stuck to John's side for the rest of his life, even if he wasn't quite as boring as other Omegas he had met before. He didn't think John would like that very much, either.

 

“Oh,” John breathed, the fear returning. Maybe this was such a bad idea after all. “We have a duty...” He wanted curl into a ball and die. This was not how it was supposed to go.

 

“I hate this duty,” Sherlock said, pressing the palms of his hands into his eyes. Why was this so stressful?

 

“What are we to do? It's not like we can just leave. And if they come in here to find that we haven't... you know... consummated then they'll just lock us in here until we have.”

 

“I don't know...” Sherlock moaned. “I don't know what we should do... I hate not knowing what to do... At least if they lock us in here we'll be locked away from the idiots that make up the court.”

"Sherlock?”

 

“What?” he asked, looking at John out of one eye.

 

“Maybe we should just, you know.... risk it. We are married and it's going to have to happen sooner or later.”

 

“You want to be bonded to me? You'll regret it... nobody likes me much. I assume you'll be the same, eventually,” Sherlock said softly.

 

“I don't think so,” John shook his head. “If we're bonded then I'll have a strong sense and duty, a need really, to be near you. I don't think I could hate you.”

 

“I couldn't make you do something like that against your will,” Sherlock said. "We could wait until your natural heat... I could cover my teeth then. You wouldn't be forced to like me.”

 

“That won't be for a while and the rest of the court will notice,” he sighed.

 

“I don't know then...” Sherlock sighed.

 

“Sherlock? Do you not want to be bonded to me?”

 

“I've never wanted it before,” Sherlock shrugged. “I don't need people... nobody has ever wanted to be around me for more than a few hours and I've learned to live with it.”

 

“What if someone did?” he asked carefully, moving a bit closer on the bed.

 

“I don't know... I know why people don't like to be around me. I'm blunt, and I can't handle my own emotions well at all, I have no filter... I've been told that I can rub people the wrong way just by entering the room.”

 

“And what's good about you?”

 

“My brain. I prize my brain more than anything else,” Sherlock said instantly. “There's not much else. Most people don't even like my brain.”

 

“But what if someone did?” he pressed on, trying to get the answer he desired. “What if someone _loved_ you and your brain? What would you do then?”

 

“I don't... I don't know. I've never thought about it because I don't think there will ever be a person like that,” Sherlock said. Thinking about this was not something he wanted to do. It was making him emotional, and he was unsure how to handle the unfamiliar feelings.

If they were bonded then Sherlock would love him, it was that simple. And if Sherlock didn't love him and only felt possessive, then surely their not yet conceived child would. “I could,” John said softly, placing a hand over Sherlock's. “I could try.”

 

“You would do that for me? When you hardly even know me?” Sherlock asked in surprise.

 

John nodded, “It's our only chance.”

 

“You won't... you won't regret it?” Sherlock asked worriedly.

 

“I can't know that for sure but the reward is greater than the risk.”

 

“If you're sure...” Sherlock said hesitantly.

 

“I'm sure," John nodded, squeezing Sherlock's hand lightly.

 

“Alright,” Sherlock said, sitting up and taking a deep breath, squeezing John's hand back just a bit. “Alright. We'll do it.”

 

John's heart began to race faster and he swallowed thickly.

 

“I guess this is it...” Sherlock said, pulling himself closer to John and leaning into him and taking a deep breath. John smelled very nice... Sherlock had never noticed something like that about a person before. “Last chance to back out.”

 

“I'm not going anywhere,” he promised, closing his eyes and breathing in the heady scent of the Alpha. He hadn't noticed it and that was probably due to the fear that had overtaken him early. Sherlock smelled so enticing, of licorice and coffee.

 

Sherlock took another deep breath and opened his mouth wide, brushing his teeth over John's skin gently before sinking them into his neck deeply, the coppery taste of John's blood blooming in his mouth.

 

John winced and tensed in pain before relaxing, a wave of intoxication rushing through him and permeating his brain. He could already feel the bond.

 

Sherlock felt their bond forming in the back of his mind. It was sort of a warm feeling that was growing and spreading as John's scent became more intense and mouth watering.

 

“Sherlock,” he breathed, the heat down below growing and a strange knot forming in his stomach. His heat had never escalated this quickly before and it made him senseless.

 

 

“You smell delicious,” Sherlock murmured, moving back in to John's neck and pressing his nose against his skin as he lapped at the blood his bite had drawn. He needed John closer _now_ , so he pulled him roughly into his lap.

 

John gasped at the roughness and quickly clung to Sherlock's shoulders as the man positioned them so he was straddling Sherlock.

 

“God, you smell so amazing,” Sherlock moaned. He could feel his erection growing quickly, and he tried to keep himself from thrusting up into John just yet.

 

John whimpered slightly as Sherlock scented him. His need was growing quickly and he grasped harder at the Alpha's shoulders.

 

“Need you, John... need to be inside you,” Sherlock moaned, grinding their cocks together.

 

“Oh god...” he moaned, feeling the slick wetness from below coating their cocks.

 

“Do you want my cock, John? I bet you do. You want me to fill you with it, want me to pump you full of my babies,” Sherlock said, unable to control the words spilling from his mouth.

 

“Please...” he groaned, rocking his hips against Sherlock's.

 

Sherlock flipped them over and pressed himself against John, moaning at the feeling of how slick he was already. “I'm going to fill you so much... going to pack you with babies...”

 

John moaned and gripped tightly at the bed sheets. “Do it. Just do it already! Oh god, Sherlock, I need you...”

 

Sherlock lined himself up with John's leaking hole and pushed in all at once, shouting at the feeling of John's tight walls puling him in even deeper.

 

John whimpered at the initial tightness and clung much more forcefully to the sheets.

 

“So tight,” Sherlock moaned loudly, beginning to rock inside John. “So warm... feels so good, John...”

“Sherlock...” he panted as he moved his hips in rhythm to Sherlock's thrusts, palming at his own erection.

 

“God, this is amazing...” Sherlock moaned, beginning to thrust into John even deeper. “So good... John...”

 

“More, Sherlock...” he groaned.

 

Sherlock sped up instantly, pulling even farther out of John and slamming back into him quickly, getting lost in the motions and the feeling of John's tight walls.

 

John felt himself coming close and he yelled out as he hit his climax, exhausted against the bed, lost in orgasmic bliss.

 

Sherlock came shortly after, shouting loudly as he felt his knot expand and lock him and John together.

 

John shuddered as his orgasms raced through him and he closed his eyes as he panted heavily.

 

Sherlock collapsed on John's chest, unable to hold himself up any longer. He lay on top of John and panted heavily, automatically resting his forehead against John's.

 

“We did it,” he said breathlessly.

 

“We did it,” Sherlock agreed. He already saw John differently. He had been handsome enough before, but now... god, he was breath taking. And his lips, they looked so soft and kissable.

 

“You know, I'm probably already pregnant,” he breathed, fear showing in his eyes.

 

“That's good, isn't it?” Sherlock asked uncertainly. “I mean, that's why we got married...”

 

“I know,” he nodded quickly. “It's just... It's a frightening thought...”

 

“I know what you mean,” Sherlock agreed. A baby... he was going to be a father to a little person. He knew this was going to happen, he knew that all of this was because he needed an heir, but actually thinking that there was an actual littler person on the way now... it was overwhelming.

 

John closed his eyes and nodded, a heavy sigh escaping his lips.

 

“Are you alright?” Sherlock asked cautiously. He wanted to run his fingers through John's hair and comfort him, but he held himself back.

 

“I'll be okay,” he murmured, his eyes still closed.

 

“Tell me what you're thinking?” Sherlock said softly.

 

“I'm thinking it's all happened very fast. My life is going to change drastically.”

 

“I'm sorry,” Sherlock said gently. “I can... I can do whatever will help you to transition better.”

 

“Be there for me?” he asked quietly, opening his eyes.

 

“I can do that," Sherlock said without hesitation. God, he would do anything for John now.

 

John gave a small smile and brushed a stray curl from Sherlock's face. Sherlock leaned into John's touch and smiled softly.


	2. Pregnant

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the next chapter! It's set a little over a month later. Thank you so much to everyone who's looked at it so far. Please remember to comment!

"Sherlock, I don't know why you're so insistent about this," John complained as Sherlock pulled him down one of the palace's long passageways. Sherlock was adamant that the palace's physician check John over due to the strange habits that were afflicting him over the past week. He had been sleeping a lot more, been experiencing spells of dizziness, his appetite had been few, and what little he did eat had been thrown up. It had been a little over a month since the wedding and their bond had only grown stronger since. Sherlock had become extremely possessive over John, audibly growling at any other Alphas that neared him and wanting to be around him always to make sure he was safe. It was endearing in a way but it was also frustrating. "I'm _fine_ ,” he huffed.

 

"Obviously you're not," Sherlock insisted. "You haven't eaten a proper meal in weeks, and you've thrown up more than you've kept down. You're not well, and I want you to be healthy again." John's condition had been worrying Sherlock to death. His husband and bond mate was ill, and he would do whatever he needed to do to get him well again. That completely didn't touch on his growing affection for John, and he thought that this might be what love felt like. He hoped that John felt the same, but he wouldn't dare to bring it up until John was healthy and happy.

 

"I'm fine," he muttered again under his breath as Sherlock pulled him into the physician's room.

 

"We'll see as soon as the physician examines you," Sherlock said, squeezing John's hand gently. John shot him an annoyed glance as he sat down and the doctor bustled in. Sherlock explained to the doctor in detail the symptoms that John had been experiencing and hovered over his shoulder as the doctor examined John, just to be certain that he wasn't hurting John in any way.

 

John let the doctor poke and prod at him and answered all of the tedious questions about his heat cycles and how intense they were. When the doctor had finally finished examining John Sherlock took his hand, tapping his foot impatiently as they waited for the doctor to tell them what was wrong with John. The doctor asked to go out in the hall to speak with Sherlock a moment and John huffed, hoping the doctor would be telling him off for worrying so much over nothing. Sherlock reluctantly followed the doctor out into the hallway, looking back over his shoulder at John as the door closed.

 

Sherlock listened to the doctor as he told him that John was pregnant. He didn't know quite how he wanted to feel. On one hand, he was excited that he'd given John a baby, and the same though was what terrified him.

 

"I told you I was fine," John huffed as they reentered the room.

 

"Come on. We're going to my bedroom," Sherlock said, tugging on John's hand.

 

"What? Why?" John asked as he was quickly whisked away from the room. “Sherlock, slow down! I’m getting dizzy again.”

 

"I'll tell you when we get there," Sherlock said, his mind still reeling.

 

"Okay..." John said warily. Obviously something was wrong with him then if Sherlock was keeping it from him.

 

Sherlock sat John on his bed when they reached his bedroom and paced in front of him, tugging on his hair as he thought about how he was going to tell John and how John might react.

 

"Sherlock, just tell me what's going on. You have me really worried. I'm not going to die am I?" It was a joke but he could see all over his Alpha's face that it had not taken well. "I'm not going to die, right?"

 

"No, you're not going to die," Sherlock assured him. He sat down on the bed next to John and took a deep breath, deciding it was better to just get it over with. "You're pregnant."

 

"I-I'm what?" he asked quietly.

 

"Pregnant. You're pregnant," Sherlock repeated.

 

"I'm pregnant..." he echoed. A small smile formed on his lips and his eyes began to well up.

 

"Are you okay?" Sherlock asked gently, reaching up to wipe away a tear that had escaped John’s eyes.

 

"Yeah, I'm fine..." he said quickly, shaking his head. "It's just... we're going to have a _baby_."

 

"Yeah, we are," Sherlock said, feeling a bit overwhelmed.

 

John gave a small laugh and threw his arms around Sherlock, hugging him tightly. "We're having a baby!"

 

"We're having a baby," Sherlock agreed, hugging John back through his shock.

 

"Are _you_ okay?" he asked as he pulled away.

 

"I'm still trying to comprehend..." Sherlock murmured.

 

"You're going to have your heir and then you won't have to worry about being stuck with me anymore," John teased, knowing that was virtually impossible now, but wanting to hear Sherlock's possessive reassurance all the same.

 

"No," Sherlock said instantly, horrified that it had even crossed John's mind. "No, you're mine, John. My Omega, my mate, you’re carrying my child. I'm never letting you go. I love being stuck with you."

 

John laughed and hugged him again. "Good."

 

"Have I not been paying enough attention to you? Is that why you had to ask?" Sherlock asked worriedly. Since their marriage, Sherlock had been getting more and more duties put upon him and it was hard to juggle his role as a prince and as a new husband.

 

"No! It’s not that at all," he quickly assured him. "That's only what you said before we were bonded. On our wedding night."

 

"I was being an idiot to think I could ever give you up," Sherlock assured him.

 

"Good, I'm glad we agree that you're an idiot."

 

Sherlock stuck his tongue out at John playfully and hugged him tightly.

 

John grinned as a fuzzy warmness filled his chest. “I love you,” he grinned. The words slipped out on their own accord, but John did little to stop them.

 

"You love me?" Sherlock asked in surprise, leaning back so he could see John's face.

 

"Of course I do," he said softly, cupping Sherlock's cheek.

 

"I love you, too," Sherlock said softly, finally daring to press their lips together.

 

John kissed back softly and wrapped his arms around his mate's neck.

 

Sherlock pulled John into his lap and held him close, laying back so that John was on top of him.

 

"Careful," he warned playfully. "I'm with child."

 

"I know... I don't think I'll be able to forget," Sherlock said, pressing his lips back against John's. "My child..."

 

"Our child," he corrected him with a quick nip at his lower lip.

 

"Yes, our child," Sherlock agreed, pecking John's lips and rubbing his sides gently. "I wouldn't want anyone else to bear my children, John."

 

"Children," he wondered aloud. "So you'll want more." John had always expected to have children and wanted them too, but he never thought of having very many.

 

"If they're yours," Sherlock said softly. "I never thought I'd say that. You are the most amazing person, John, and I love you very much."John regarded him a moment before bending down and kissing him again.

 

"I very much like kissing you," Sherlock murmured against John's lips.

 

"Mm, that's a good thing because I like kissing you as well."

 

"You'll be a wonderful father for our child, John," Sherlock said, brushing his lips along John's cheeks.

 

"Are you sure?" John asked hesitantly.

 

"Of course I am. You're so kind and caring and loving... I don't see how you couldn't be.”

 

John gave a wide smile and nodded. "Please promise you'll back off a little though. I do know how to take care of myself."

 

"You're carrying my child now. I don't know if I'll be able to," Sherlock said sheepishly.

 

John rolled his eyes and hung his head. "Always the protective Alpha," he muttered.

 

"I will try my best. It will make you happy, so I'll try not to be _too_ over protective," Sherlock said gently. 

 

"As long as you try," he nodded.

 

"I will. And you won't want for anything. If you have a craving or want anything at all, you shall have it," Sherlock told him. 

 

"God, that sounds wonderful," he grinned, laying back against the pillows. Living the life of a prince was certainly comfortable, but there were constantly jobs to be done, things to learn, and other kingdoms and countries to make treaties with. John would have to worry about none of that now that he was pregnant, and he would be living in the lap of luxury with such a doting Alpha.

 

"Only the best for my love," Sherlock said, wrapping his arms around John and touching his belly gently. "My love and our child." John hummed lightly and closed his eyes, letting his hand rest on top of the one Sherlock had on his stomach.

 

"Are you as scared as I am?" Sherlock asked uncertainly.

 

John opened an eye and looked up at him. "I'm more frightened than you. You're not the one that physically has to go through with it."

 

"Maybe I'm not going to be changing physically, but I can already feel myself changing on the inside. I've never felt this way, John... I'm more frightened than I've ever been before," Sherlock admitted softly.

 

"Well don't be," he smiled. "We'll make it through."

 

"I know we will," Sherlock said, still sounding a bit unsure.

 

John nodded and closed his eyes again, letting out a contented sigh. The pregnancy was making him much more exhausted than normal.

 

"Are you tired, love?" Sherlock asked gently. "You should take a nap."

 

"Mm." He nodded and gave a small yawn.

 

"Sleep, then," Sherlock urged gently, kissing John's temple.

 

John adjusted himself into a more comfortable position and let out another yawn.

 

"You're beautiful when you sleep," Sherlock murmured, running his fingers through John's hair. His hair was one of Sherlock’s favorite things about John. It smelled of apples, was the color of golden honey, and soft as down.

 

"Sherlock, I'm never going to get any sleep if you keep talking to me," he mumbled.

 

"Sorry... I'll be quiet," Sherlock said softly, kissing John's temple. John smiled, his eyes still closed, and he nuzzled into the pillow. Sherlock smiled at his mate and stroked his hair, brushing his lips softly over John's face and hair every so often. Sherlock's attention was making it hard to actually sleep but John said nothing. It felt nice to be doted on. While John slept Sherlock was thinking. They were going to have a baby... a new little person that was part of both of them. He hoped it was more like John then it was like himself.

 

John awoke a few hours later from his nap and stretched lightly. A smile came to his face when he remembered the reason he had been so tired. He gave a small yawn and nuzzled his head against Sherlock’s shoulder.

 

"Are you feeling better, love?" Sherlock asked, brushing a stray lock of hair off of John's forehead.

 

"Mm, much. Did you stay here the entire time?"

 

"Yes. I'd much rather be with you even when you're asleep than be out with the idiots of court," Sherlock murmured.

 

"As much as I find that flattering, you don't need to hover over me. I'm sure no one's going to kill me in my sleep."

 

"I wasn't hovering. I was thinking," Sherlock huffed.

 

John’s brow furrowed. "Thinking about what?"

 

"About our baby... how I want it to be like you," Sherlock said, resting his hand on John's stomach.

 

"I think that depends on how we raise it, love."

 

"Then you'll have to raise it. I don't want it to be like me... I want it to be normal," Sherlock murmured. 

 

"Sherlock..." he sighed. "You have to be a part of his or her life."

 

"I want to be a part of its life. But I want our baby to be normal over anything else.”

 

"I'm not normal, Sherlock," he chuckled and squeezed his hand with a smile. "There's a pretty good chance our child won't be either."

 

"You're more normal than I am," Sherlock pointed out.

 

John rolled his eyes. "Whatever you say."

 

"I just don't want our baby to be as lonely as I was as a child." 

 

"He or she won't be, I promise," John said sincerely. “Our child will be so loved and it will get so much attention he or she will be clambering to have some alone time.”

 

"Good," Sherlock murmured, kissing John's temple.

 

John's stomach growled and he put a hand over it, looking embarrassed. "Sorry."

 

"Don't apologize, love. What do you want to eat?" Sherlock asked gently.

 

"I don't know..." he thought aloud, pushing himself up so he could get off the bed. "I'll just go see what the kitchen has."

 

"I'll come with you," Sherlock said, sitting up. 

 

"You don't have to hover," John reminded him.

 

"Sorry," Sherlock said, pulling away from John. "I'll just... I'll go and see if Father needs me for anything, then."

 

John gave him a sympathetic smile and kissed his cheek before pushing himself off the bed. “Follow me if you want, but that means you have to eat something too.” Sherlock rolled his eyes but followed along anyway.


	3. Nesting

Sherlock sat in on his fathers meeting with his advisers, bored out of his mind. The talk of business and state was ludicrous in his mind especially around these idiots. His elder brother, Mycroft, had recently abdicated his position as Crown Prince to pursue a more covert and powerful role in Parliament. Sherlock sneered at the thought, furious that he was now saddled with the job of becoming the future King. There were many things he’s rather be doing than listening to his father’s advisors drone on. He missed John. He hadn't seen his mate since this morning at breakfast and all he wanted to do was hide with John in their chambers and feel their baby kick all afternoon. As soon as the meeting ended, Sherlock was off to find John.

 

John, meanwhile, was bustling around in the nursery that was being set up for his and Sherlock's future son or daughter. It was difficult, not knowing if the baby was a boy or a girl, and so he was having a difficult time choosing what colors and decorations to put in the room. It was the Omega’s job to make all of these decisions, but Sherlock had been more concerned about being involved than the average Alpha.

 

Sherlock went right to the nursery and smiled when he saw John puttering around and nesting, his belly heavy with their baby. "Hello, love," he grinned, catching John around the waist gently and nuzzling his neck. "Looks nice in here."

 

"You think?" he grinned. "I'm having a bit of trouble deciding what to put in here."

 

"Well you're doing a good job. It's going to be perfect," Sherlock said, looking around at the small amount of decorations already in place and rubbing John's belly.

 

John smiled at the gesture and turned around to give him a hug. "How was your meeting?"

 

Sherlock made a face. "Boring. They always are. I want to spend the afternoon with you..." 

 

"Want to help me with the nursery then?"

 

Sherlock grinned and pressed a kiss to John’s lips. “Yes. We’ll make it perfect together.”

 

John sidled over to the booklet in the corner that held all of the options for paint, wallpaper, cots, decorations, and everything else under the sun that a baby could possibly need. "What do you think of these?" John asked, holding out some samples of wallpaper colors.

 

"I like this one," Sherlock said as he fingered the middle sample, a deep maroon color.

 

"Alright," John nodded and deposited the sample into the side pocket for one of the servants to order later. "It's driving me insane not knowing what gender the baby is but I do know I want to spoil it."

"It's the best mystery..." Sherlock murmured.

“You think?”

 

"Yeah. It's exciting," Sherlock grinned. “I’ve never been this excited about anything before in my life. Well, apart from the time I received a puppy for Christmas when I was six.”

 

John laughed and wrapped his arms back around his Alpha's waist. "Well, I can't wait to find out.”

 

"I can't either," Sherlock said, resting a hand on John's belly and settling the other on his hip. "Our child... I still can't believe that we're having a child."

 

"You've had months to get used to the idea and you still can't believe it?" he chuckled.

 

"Of course I know we're having a baby... I just can't wrap my mind around the fact that we've created a little person..." Sherlock said. "I know it will all become real once the baby actually arrives."

 

"Did you ever really believe that you'd become a father?"

 

"I knew I would have to eventually... I just didn't think I'd want to be involved in raising it. You know when we got married I initially thought that I wouldn’t want anything to do with you after you'd conceived," Sherlock murmured.

 

John pressed his lips into a thin line. "Yes, I remember quite vividly.”

 

"I don't feel like that anymore," Sherlock said quickly. "I love you, and I love our baby. More than anything."

 

"Good," he smiled and kissed Sherlock's nose.

 

"I can't imagine there was a time when I didn't want this," Sherlock murmured, rubbing John's belly.

 

"Back when you thought that your brain was the most important thing on the planet."

 

"I've got more important things in my life now," Sherlock said, kissing John's forehead.

 

John smiled and squeezed his hand. "Yes, but we're not your entire life. You do have a kingdom to run."

 

Sherlock sighed heavily and slumped down into the rocking chair in the corner. "I wish I didn't. Running a kingdom is boring," he complained. 

 

"You have a duty," he reminded his Alpha, grabbing the sample book again. "And so do I."

 

"I know... I trust you'll keep me sane through the dullness of being King," Sherlock said, extending his hand to John and pulling him onto his lap as he looked through the sample book. 

 

"What kind of bed should be put in here?" John mused as he flipped through the pictures.

 

"I think a cot, yeah? And then a cot in our rooms for when the little one is very young," Sherlock offered. 

 

"That sounds like a good idea," he nodded. "I do like this one," he said as he pointed to one of the samples. It was made of elegantly carved wood.

 

"It's very nice," Sherlock agreed. "For our room, or for the nursery?"

 

"Why not both?" he smiled. "I did say I wanted to spoil our child."

 

"Then both it is," Sherlock smiled, kissing John's neck and rubbing his belly. "Only the best for our little one."

 

John chuckled softly and turned his head to give Sherlock a proper kiss, dropping the book to the floor.

 

"I don't see what's funny," Sherlock mumbled, kissing John back happily. 

 

"It's not," he shook his head. "I'm just laughing because I'm in love with you."

 

"I'm in love with you, too," Sherlock smiled, continuing to kiss John.

 

John hummed and turned to wrap his arms around his husband while they kissed.

 

"I think we should take this to our room..." Sherlock suggested softly.

 

"Mm, sounds like an excellent idea," he murmured, kissing him again.

 

"Come along then," Sherlock grinned, taking John's hand and leading him out of the nursery. 

 

Back in their room, Sherlock carefully laid John out on their bed, hovering over him and kissing him deeply. John kissed him hungrily and pulled him closer.

 

"You're feisty today," Sherlock grinned, pulling back slightly. 

 

"Must be the hormones," he mumbled, reaching up for another kiss.

 

"Don't care what it is... I like it quite a bit," Sherlock said before sealing their lips together again.John chuckled softly and pulled him closer again while Sherlock’s hands found their way to John’s belly. 

 

"You can't keep your hands off my stomach," John wondered aloud.

 

"Love your belly," Sherlock said guiltily. "Seeing you heavy with my seed, round with our child... it's amazing and incredibly sexy."

 

"It is?" he raised an eyebrow with a sly smirk.

 

"Very much so," Sherlock said, diving in for another deep kiss. John moaned into the kiss as he adjusted slightly so he could lay back more comfortably on the pillows.

 

"I want you," Sherlock murmured, kissing down John's throat and nipping at his bond bite. John whimpered slightly as Sherlock's teeth grazed against him and he let his head fall further back. "Want to watch you fuck yourself on me..." Sherlock continued, his hands creeping under John's shirt to caress his stretched skin. 

 

"Sherlock," John breathed. "You need to be careful."

 

"Won't hurt you... I'd never hurt you or our baby," Sherlock assured him. 

 

"Alright then," he said softly, running his fingers through Sherlock's hair.

 

"You tell me if you feel uncomfortable, yeah?" Sherlock said, gently flipping them over so that John was on top.

 

"Okay," he nodded, biting his lower lip in hesitation. Sherlock smiled and pushed John's shirt up over his head and gripped his hips gently. John sucked in a breath as the cool air hit his chest and he reattached his lips to his husband's.

 

"God I love you," Sherlock muttered against John's lips as he ran his hands up his back. John shivered at the touch and nipped at Sherlock's lower lip.

 

"So responsive," Sherlock grinned. "I love it."John returned the grin with equal fervor and kissed him harder.

 

"My perfect John," Sherlock moaned, caressing John's sides and belly. John chuckled at this, nuzzling Sherlock's neck.

 

"Need to get you naked..."

 

John sighed and sat up, awkwardly shimmying out of his trousers, while Sherlock watched him intently, unbuttoning his shirt hurriedly. John pushed the shirt off of him and carefully kissed his way down Sherlock’s chest.

"John..." Sherlock sighed happily, running his fingers through John's hair.John smirked and nipped at Sherlock's collarbone.

 

Sherlock gasped and tilted his neck back. "You minx.”

 

John laughed breathlessly at this and found Sherlock's pulse point, sucking on it.

 

 "God, John... I need to be in you..." Sherlock panted, moaning as John sucked on his skin. John smirked and grinded against him just to tease him more.

 

"Cheeky!" Sherlock gasped, reaching down and fumbling with his belt, desperate to get inside John. 

 

John laughed heartily at this. "And you love it."

 

"You know I do," Sherlock growled playfully, pulling John's lips back to his own. 

 

"Good.”

 

Sherlock struggled a bit to push his own trousers down, unwilling to move John from his lap. John quickly pushed his hands away and pulled down Sherlock's trousers for him. 

 

"Much better," Sherlock sighed, reaching for John again. "Come here." 

 

John smiled and scooted up.

 

"Was being serious before... I want you to ride me," Sherlock said, gripping John's hips.

 

"You're especially insistent today, love,” John smirked.

 

"I haven't had you in too long," Sherlock murmured, gripping John’s hips gently.

 

"Then take me," he breathed.

 

"Ride me?" Sherlock asked hopefully.

 

"You know I'm not on my heat right now," he warned.

 

"I know... do you think you'll be wet enough?"

 

"I don't know.”

 

"We'll be careful. Take it nice and slow," Sherlock said, reaching around to feel John's hole. "Wet enough, I think," he said, trying to hold back a moan. John whimpered as Sherlock's finger entered him and kissed at his neck.

 

"Such lovely sounds," Sherlock moaned, nudging John's entrance with the tip of his cock. John moaned louder and laced his fingers into Sherlock's hair. Too impatient for John to start, Sherlock growled and flipped them both over gently. He nudged John's hole again once before he thrust in. John let out an audible gasp and moaned loudly as Sherlock moved.

 

"Feels so good, John," Sherlock moaned, lost in John's warmth.

 

"Sherlock..." he breathed, gripping tightly at his curls.

 

"You like that?" Sherlock asked cheekily, rocking his hips slightly. John whimpered and buried his face in Sherlock's neck. With a groan, Sherlock began thrusting into John gently, taking care not to bump his round belly. John wrapped a leg around Sherlock's hip, pulling him closer. Sherlock moaned and dropped his head to John's neck, kissing up and down his throat and jaw. John panted heavily and tilted his neck back to give Sherlock better access. Sherlock focused his attention on John's bond bite, kissing, nibbling, and sucking gently on the spot while he thrust carefully into his mate. John gasped and whimpered at the attention, the spot still tender.

 

"You're so amazing," Sherlock murmured. John moaned in response and bucked his hips. Sherlock smirked into the kiss and reached down past John's belly to begin rubbing his cock. John moaned louder and a shiver ran up his spine.

 

"I'm close, John," Sherlock moaned, straining to keep himself from slamming into John uncontrollably.

 

John shuddered. "S-So.... am... I..."

 

"Come for me, John," Sherlock urged, stroking John's cock more firmly. "Come now."

 

John panted heavily and buried his head in Sherlock's neck as he felt himself climax.

 

John's climax set off Sherlock's own climax and Sherlock moaned loudly as he came, nipping at John's bond bite gently. John groaned and ran his fingers through Sherlock's hair.

 

"John... love you so much..." Sherlock panted. 

 

"I love you too," he mumbled, pressing a lazy kiss to Sherlock's temple.

 

Sherlock covered John's belly with his hand and rubbed gently. "I love you, too, little one."

 

John laughed softly and kissed his forehead. “What are you doing?”

 

"Babies can hear in the womb, you know. I've read that it helps to speak to them and read to them prenatal.”

 

"Oh god, imagine what it just heard," he groaned, placing a hand over his face.

 

"Sex is very healthy for you and the little one, love," Sherlock assured him. "I've been doing a lot of reading."

 

"Oh really?" he raised an eyebrow. "Or are you just saying that so you can fuck me more?"

 

"I'm not just saying that," Sherlock chuckled. "Though I hope we'll continue to have sex throughout your pregnancy." 

 

"I'm already huge, Sherlock. I'm only going to get bigger and that will make having sex a lot harder."

 

"I'm sure if you want it badly enough you'll find a way," Sherlock smiled softly. "I'll never force you into anything, though."

 

“I appreciate that.” John kissed him gently and settled back into the pillows, pulling the covers up around himself.Sherlock smiled and wrapped his arms around John's Holding him close to his chest with one arm and resting his other hand protectively over his belly.


	4. The Birth Pt. 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The baby is here! Sorry for taking so long to post the next couple of chapters. This one was a monster to put together and we had a hard time deciding where to split it. It's a GINORMOUS section that ended up being 7,944 words long so we've split it into two chapters. Also, Thanksgiving got in the way a bit. Thanks for your patience and thank you to everyone so far that has left kudos and comments!
> 
> -broadwaybound

Sherlock hated being away from John. The closer he got to his due date, the more Sherlock wanted to be right there with him to get everything and anything he wanted and to spend his time rubbing John's back or feet or just feeling their child kick inside his belly. Sherlock was in the library reading, a small reprieve from his daily meetings and a unusual moment of alone time since John was in their room resting.  

 

"Sherlock!" John called, waddling down the corridor with a wide grin, his face red and out of breath. "Come look! The nursery's finished." John was due any day now and it was harder for him to get about the palace. Sherlock insisted that he stay in bed and rest but John wouldn't listen, constantly worried if everything would be ready in time for the baby’s arrival.

 

"You shouldn't be out of bed," Sherlock scolded gently. "And you shouldn't be so out of breath. Let's go to the nursery _slowly_ ," Sherlock said, wrapping an arm around John's waist and kissing his temple.

 

"I'm _fine_ ," he grumbled. "You're overreacting as always."

 

"You could go into labor at any time, love. Of course I'm going to be protective of you. What I'd really like is to tie you to the bed until the baby is born, but I'm not going to because I know you'd hate that.”

 

"Do that and I'm not giving you another one," he warned.

 

"I know, love. I wouldn't dare," Sherlock said with a small smile. "I just wish you wouldn't push yourself so much. It's not good for you or the baby."

 

"I'm not pushing myself!"

 

"You looked liked you were about to pass out, love," Sherlock pointed out.

 

"Did not," he muttered as Sherlock supported him down the corridor.

 

"You did. You're still breathing hard and your face was bright red," Sherlock said. "I love how excited you are, John, but you're not thinking about how you need to conserve your energy for the birth." John grumbled to himself but said nothing more.

 

"How's our little one doing today, love?" Sherlock asked as he slowed John’s pace and supported most of his weight.

 

"Fine," he sighed. "I was up half the night because someone wouldn't stop kicking."

 

"You should have woken me. I would have played for you, that normally settles him or her down, doesn't it?" Sherlock said.

 

"Usually," he yawned.

 

"I'll play for you tonight. You look knackered," Sherlock said gently. 

 

"Mm, that would be nice," John smiled as they finally entered the nursery.

 

Sherlock took a moment to look around the room and smiled widely. The cot was finally set up and decorated with pillows and blankets and stuffed animals. Sherlock had once told John that he had dreamed of being a pirate as a young boy and so John had decorated the nursery with a sailboat theme. The rocking chair in the corner held a crocheted afghan and a changing table was assembled in the corner. "It looks lovely in here, John." 

"It does, doesn't it?" he grinned, walking over to admire the cot.

 

Sherlock grinned and came up behind John to rest his hands on his belly and his chin on John's shoulder. "Just a few more days, love." 

 

"Thank god," he breathed. "I don't know how much longer I can stand being like this."

 

"Back hurting again?" Sherlock asked gently. 

 

"Yeah," he nodded.

 

"Want me to massage it for you? We could go back to our room and have a nice rest together," Sherlock suggested. 

 

"That sounds lovely," John smiled, taking Sherlock's hand.

 

"Come on then, love," Sherlock smiled, leading John toward their bedroom. Once they returned to their room, John sighed happily as he lay down on the bed. As much as he hated following Sherlock's orders to stay in bed, it did feel good to rest. Sherlock smiled at John and sat next to him on the bed and began rubbing his back gently and firmly, just like he knew John liked. John smiled and softened under the touch, relaxing considerably.

 

"Feel better, love?" Sherlock asked.

 

"Don't stop," John murmured.

 

"I won't, I promise," Sherlock assured him. 

 

"Good," he smiled and readjusted himself.

 

"As soon as you go into labor, you send someone to find me. I don't want to miss anything," Sherlock said as he worked the knots from John's back. 

 

"Yes, yes, I know. You've reminded me about a hundred times."

 

"I know... I'm just so nervous and excited about it," Sherlock said sheepishly. 

 

John winced and made a face. "Ow!" A sudden pain had surged through his abdomen and stayed there as a strong pulse.

 

"Did I hurt you, love? I'm so sorry," Sherlock said, taking his hands off of John instantly.

 

"No, it's not you," he groaned in pain, curling in on himself.

 

"Is it the baby?" Sherlock asked worriedly. "Should I have someone call for the midwife?"

 

"Yes," John moaned. "I think that it's coming."

 

"Shhh," Sherlock said, stroking John's hair and leaning over to hit the button that summoned a servant. "It's going to be fine, love. Just tell me what you need me to do. I'll be here the whole time.”

 

John whimpered and shook his head, helpless.

 

"Go and fetch the midwife. Quickly," Sherlock told the servant that showed up in the doorway. "Shhh, John. It's alright. I'll be here the whole time, love."

 

John tried to sit up, wincing as he did so, and tried to rest back against the pillows, gritting his teeth in pain.

 

"What can I do, love?" Sherlock asked gently. "How do I make you more comfortable?" 

 

"I don't know!" he cried, squeezing his eyes shut. "It just hurts like hell!"

 

"You're going to be fine, love," Sherlock said, hoping he was being reassuring. John shook his head quickly and balled his hands into fists, clutching at the covers.

 

"Do you want me to rub your back some more?" Sherlock asked uncertainly. 

 

"No!" John said quickly. "Don't touch me."

 

"Alright, alright," Sherlock said, holding his hands up for John to see. 

 

"Sh-Sherlock, I'm sorry," he sighed, clenching his teeth. "I didn't mean to snap at you."

 

"It's fine, love. You do whatever you feel you need to," Sherlock assured him. 

 

John whimpered some more before finally relaxing against the pillows. "I think that one's over."

 

"That was only one contraction?" Sherlock asked, going a bit pale. 

 

"Yeah," he nodded, slightly out of breath.

 

"How long... how long does labor usually last?" Sherlock asked nervously.

 

"I thought you'd been reading up on it," John huffed. "It can be fairly short or last hours."

 

"I read about the baby's development and things like that, I didn't spend too much time on the labor its self," Sherlock said sheepishly.

 

"Well, then you're going to be in for a rude awakening."

 

"I'm seeing that now," Sherlock said nervously. John shut his eyes and hid his face in Sherlock's chest as the midwife came in.

 

"Good afternoon, your highnesses," the midwife said, bowing at the foot of the bed. "Your labor has started, sir?"  

 

"Yes," he mumbled into Sherlock's chest.

 

"May I examine your mate, your highness?" the midwife asked Sherlock.   
  
"Yes, please," Sherlock said, inclining his head.   
  
"Sir, can you please lay back or sit up for me?" she asked John gently. John tried to sit up but the pain was too much so he opted to lay back. "I'm just going to feel your belly now, sir," she said, reaching out and pushing John's shirt up to press against his belly gently. John winced as she pushed lower.

 

"You should be fine, sir. I'll go and fetch my equipment and come right back."

 

John sighed and clung to Sherlock. Sherlock cautiously stroked John's hair, hoping that h was welcome.

 

"Sherlock?"

 

“Yes, John?”

 

"I'm scared," he admitted.

 

"I know, love. It will be alright, though," Sherlock assured him. 

 

“Are you sure?”

 

"I'm sure, love," he said softly. 

 

"I hope you're right," he breathed, apprehension taking hold of him.

 

"You will be. This is what your body was made for, love," Sherlock said gently. John's face reddened but he nodded. This was not the time to argue Omega rights.

 

"Just tell me what you need me to do, love," Sherlock said again. 

 

"I don't know," he murmured.

 

"Just tell me when you do. I'll do whatever you ask," Sherlock promised. 

 

"Okay," he nodded and hid his face in Sherlock's chest, feeling another contraction coming on. Sherlock stroked John's hair gently, feeling John begin to tense up in his arms. John’s brow knit together and he whimpered.

 

"I wish there was something I could do, love," Sherlock murmured. John took some deep breaths before sitting up and clutching at the covers again. "Do you want to hold my hand?" Sherlock asked. "I think I'm a bit better than holding onto the sheets." John sucked in a breath and stared at the sheets as he offered one of his hands. Sherlock smiled and took John's hand, squeezing gently. John pressed his lips into a thin line and squeezed harder. Sherlock winced as John squeezed his hand but didn't pull away or say anything.  John groaned, but refused to cry out, his teeth gritted in pain. It was a few minutes more before John could relax again and he laid back against the pillows.

 

"It's all going to be worth it, love," Sherlock murmured.

 

"I hope you're right," he panted.

 

"Just think about holding our little baby in your arms," Sherlock said. John nodded and closed his eyes, trying to imagine. "You're going to look lovely holding our child for the first time. Exhausted and sweaty, but your eyes so bright and excited, so happy to see our baby finally here to greet the world..." Sherlock said, painting a picture in his mind before reaching down to press a kiss to John’s lips. John kissed him back and cupped his cheek.

 

"Okay. I believe you." 

 

"Good," Sherlock smiled, squeezing John's hand again. John gave a weak smile and closed his eyes again.

 

"Another contraction?" Sherlock asked gently. 

 

“I think so.”

 

"Squeeze as hard as you need to, love," Sherlock assured him, squeezing John's hand lightly.John nodded and squeezed gently, praying the contractions would just stop.

"I know you can do this. We'll have our baby soon..." Sherlock murmured gently. John nodded and bit his lip as the midwife returned.

 

"How are you feeling, your highness?" the midwife asked, beginning to arrange her things at the foot of the bed.

 

"Not well," he groaned. "I think the contractions are getting closer together."

 

"Getting up and moving about helps the pain, sir. Feel free to do what you need to," she said. "I can check you if you'd like?"

 

"Okay..." John nodded his consent.

 

"Please take off your trousers, sir," she asked, approaching the bed. John looked to his husband before sighing and awkwardly sliding out of his trousers. Sherlock helped John as much as he could and held himself back from snarling at the midwife as she moved forward to begin checking John out. 

 

"Is everything alright with the baby?" John asked tentatively.

 

"Yes, everything is fine, sir. You're about three centimeters, dilated," the midwife said, wiping her hands on a towel.

 

John groaned and let his head fall back. "Only three centimeters?"

 

"Yes, only three. Labor takes time, sir.”

 

John let out an exasperated whimper and closed his eyes.

 

"You can do this, John. I know you can," Sherlock said encouragingly as he rubbed circles on the back of John’s hand with his thumb. "Do you want to move around?"

 

"I'll try," he swallowed and sat up, easing off the bed gently and putting his trousers on before standing up unsteadily. Sherlock stood with him and put John's hand on his shoulder so he had something to hang onto. John took a few shaky steps before finally finding his footing and circling around the room, his arm linked with Sherlock's for support.

 

"Is it helping, love?" Sherlock asked gently.

 

"A bit," he nodded.

 

"Good," Sherlock said, kissing his forehead.

 

"Sherlock? Can we walk somewhere other than our room? It's getting a bit too claustrophobic in here for me."

 

"I don't suppose that would be a problem love. Wherever you want to go," Sherlock said.

 

"Can we go to the gardens?" he asked as they left the room. "The fresh air will do me good."

 

"Of course," Sherlock smiled. "Lets go out. You lead at your pace." John nodded and shuffled slowly down the hall, wincing as he took the stairs. "You're okay, love. Lean on me as much as you need to," Sherlock murmured. John did and held Sherlock's arm tightly as they made their way out into the gardens. John squinted at the bright sunlight but his face lit up into a smile as he saw the flowers and trees in bloom.

 

"A spring birth," Sherlock murmured, kissing John's temple. 

 

‘"It's beautiful," he murmured as they walked.

 

"Not as beautiful as you are."

 

John rolled his eyes as he continued his slow pace down the garden path.

 

"How are you feeling?" Sherlock asked. 

 

"A little better," John panted before his face scrunched up in pain and he held his stomach as he made his way over to a stone bench.

 

Sherlock helped him to sit down and gripped both of his hands gently. "I'm here, love. Focus on me."

 

John took deep breaths before looking up at him and focusing on Sherlock's deep blue eyes.

 

"That's it, love," Sherlock smiled.

 

"Your eyes are so blue," he said quietly.

 

"Thank you, John," Sherlock said with a soft smile. "They're nothing compared to yours, though." 

 

John blinked and took another deep breath, squeezing Sherlock's hands. "I think this one's over."

 

"Good," Sherlock smiled gently. John nodded and began to stand up.

 

"Where to now, love?" Sherlock asked gently, supporting John as he stood. 

 

"Let's keep walking down the path," John breath as he grabbed Sherlock's arm for support.

 

"Of course, love," Sherlock said, supporting most of John's weight.

 

John smiled softly. "Sherlock? Bend down a bit."

 

"What is it, John?" Sherlock asked, bending down as John asked.

 

John leaned over slightly and pressed a soft kiss to Sherlock's cheek. "I couldn't reach."

 

Sherlock smiled and turned to kiss John properly. "Love you..." John grinned and began walking slowly towards the other end of the large expanse of the garden. Sherlock smiled at John as they walked and rubbed his thumb gently over the back of John's hand. 

 

"It's so nice out," John commented with a smile before stopping to smell one of the flowers closest to him. "I could just stay out here forever."

 

"It is very nice out," Sherlock agreed. "Not too hot, not to cold..." 

 

“It’s perfect.”

 

"How long do you think you want to stay out here?" Sherlock asked. 

 

"I don't know," John bit his lower lip. "A little bit longer."

 

"We can stay as long as you want, love," Sherlock assured him.

 

"Thanks," he murmured with a smile and took in the gardens around him. "I don't think I've actually been through the whole thing before."

 

"Would you like to?"

 

“Yeah,” he grinned.

 

"Then that's what we'll do. There's actually a place where I used to play as a boy... no idea why I haven't taken you there before. Would you like to see it?" Sherlock asked. 

 

"Of course," he nodded.

 

"This way, then," Sherlock smiled, turning John gently down one of the side paths. "Tell me as soon as you feel you need to take a break or have a contraction, love.”

 

"I will," he nodded. Sherlock lead John carefully through the gardens and eventually stepped off the paved path, heading for one of the trimmed hedges. 

 

"Not so fast!" John panted.

 

"I'm sorry, love. You should have said something earlier," Sherlock said, stopping instantly. "Are you alright? Do you need to sit down?"

 

"I'm okay," he panted. "Just give me a second." John paused a moment to breathe before nodding for him to go on. Sherlock continued at a much slower pace, conscious of John's heavy breathing. 

 

"So where is it exactly that we are going?"

 

"A little clearing... it's still on palace grounds but it's not tended by the gardeners. It's not far, don't worry," Sherlock assured him. John nodded and gripped his arm a little tighter. He hadn't been off the palace grounds since he had been brought here. "Here we are," Sherlock smiled, stopping in the middle of the clearing. It was much smaller than he remembered, but that was likely because he hadn't been here for years. But the large, smooth rock he used to sit on was still there, and the wooden planks he had managed to nick from the gardeners were still nailed to a tree to ease his way into the branches and keep his clothes relatively clean. 

 

"It's nice," John smiled. "A perfect hide away for a little prince."

 

"I always thought so," Sherlock said, smiling at his memories. "Nobody ever found me here. I would spend hours reading on that rock when I was supposed to be in my lessons."

 

John smirked at this, imagining it so well. "I wonder if our son our daughter will come out here to hide from us," he laughed.

 

"Well you won't see me come look for them out here. This place is special, a place away from the grip of adults. If they do come here, they'll get away with skipping their lessons.”

 

"So it's going to fall to me to be the bad parent, is it?" John raised an eyebrow.

 

"No, of course not. I'm just saying if our little one is skipping lessons, I won't be looking for them here," Sherlock explained. 

 

"Okay, good," he smiled and took a seat on the rock, gently holding his large stomach. "I don't want to be the bad parent all the time."

 

"Nobody wants to be the bad parent ever," Sherlock murmured, perching next to John on the rock.

 

“And yet they still exist," John said bitterly, staring at a spot on the ground.

 

"Are you alright, love?" Sherlock asked, concerned at the tone John's voice had taken on. 

 

"It's fine," John shook his head. "Don't worry about it."

 

"If you have to tell me not to worry about it, that means that there's something I should worry about," Sherlock said gently.

 

John sighed heavily and looked away. "I didn't have the best upbringing."

 

"Oh John..." Sherlock murmured, wrapping his arms around his mate and holding him close. "I'm so sorry to hear that, love." John hugged him back and buried his face in Sherlock's neck.

 

"It's horrible being raised as an Omega. All the ridicule... Please promise me, Sherlock, that you won't discriminate if our child is an Omega."

 

"Of course not, John. I could never do something like that to our child," Sherlock assured him. 

 

"Thank god," he breathed and pressed a soft kiss to his neck.

 

"Our child will always be loved, John. And so will you," Sherlock said, running his fingers through John's hair. 

 

John leaned into the touch and tightened his arms around Sherlock. "I love you so much," he whispered.

 

"I love you, too, John," Sherlock said softly. John pulled away to give him a smile before his face contorted in pain.

 

"Are the contractions getting worse?" Sherlock asked gently.

 

"Yeah," he breathed heavily, clutching his stomach with a pained expression.

 

"Do you want to go back inside the palace?" 

 

John was about to protest but another pang hit him and he nodded his head with a whimper.

 

"Can you walk, love?" Sherlock asked. "I'll carry you if you need me too." 

 

"I don't expect you to carry me," he shook his head with a huff, struggling to stand.

 

"If I feel you can't manage the walk back that's what I'm doing," Sherlock said firmly as he helped John up.

 

"Fine," he said flatly and let Sherlock carefully guide him back to the path.

 

"You're going to be alright, love," Sherlock murmured, keeping an arm firmly around John's waist. John nodded as he took a deep breath and squeezed Sherlock's hand. Sherlock squeezed back and kissed John's forehead gently. They made their way back into the palace, taking John much longer on the stairs.

 

"Are you alright, love?" Sherlock asked gently.

 

"Yeah, just hang on," he breathed, holding tightly to the railing.

 

"Take as long as you need, love," Sherlock said, rubbing John's back gently.

 

John took a moment to catch his breath before slowly climbing again. "I'm not going to move for a week after this," he grumbled.

 

"Then I'll wait on you hand and foot," Sherlock told him.

 

"You don't have to do that," he shook his head. "Then who would take care of the baby?"

 

"We both would, obviously," Sherlock said, smiling at John's ridiculous question.

 

John shook his head with a smile and climbed the last few stairs, stopping as he got to the top.

 

"Another contraction?"

 

"No, I just need to catch--" John started but doubled over in pain.

 

"I think you spoke too soon, love," Sherlock said, holding John up with one hand and rubbing his back gently with the other. 

 

"The contractions are getting closer together."

 

"Baby wants to come out and meet us," Sherlock said softly.

 

"Well he or she either needs to come out now or stay in there because I'm tired of this," he huffed.

 

"I think at this point our little one doesn't have much choice," Sherlock said gently. "Remember it will all be worth it when we have our baby in our arms." 

 

"Right," John nodded and winced as he started moving again.

 

"Come on. Let's get you back into bed," Sherlock said, guiding John back to their bedroom.


	5. The Birth Pt. 2

The sight of the bed was actually welcoming and John sank down onto the mattress with a sigh.

 

"Do you want the midwife to check you again, love?" Sherlock asked. 

 

"Yeah, that's probably a good idea," he nodded.

 

"I'll go fetch her. She should be in the other room," Sherlock said, leaning down to kiss John's forehead. "I'll be right back, love." Sherlock came back with the midwife and immediately moved to sit next to John on the bed and took his hand.   
  
"Please take your trousers off again, sir," the midwife said politely. John rolled his eyes in annoyance and did as he was told.

 

The midwife looked to Sherlock for permission to touch his mate and as soon as she got it she reached up to feel John's opening.

 

"Six centimeters, sir."

 

"Only six?" John's brow knit together.

 

"Yes. It's quite a big change from earlier. You've dilated three centimeters in under an hour," the midwife informed him. 

 

"And only four more to go," he breathed bitterly, throwing an arm over his face.

 

"It's alright, love. You're doing very well," Sherlock said, bringing John's knuckles to his lips and pressing a gentle kiss against his skin. 

 

"Why can't this just be over already?" he moaned.

 

"These things take time, John," Sherlock said. "It will be over sooner than you realize." 

 

"Not soon enough," he muttered.

 

"Don't worry love. I know you can handle it," Sherlock murmured.

 

"How can you be so sure?"

 

"Because you're so strong," Sherlock said gently.

 

"Right..." he scoffed.

 

"You are. You are /so/ strong, John," Sherlock said firmly. "You can do this, love. I know you can.”

 

John sighed and gave a nod of his head. Sherlock kissed the back of John's hand, trying to support him in any way he could. "Can I do anything for you, love?"

 

"Make time go faster?" he smirked.

 

"If I could I would, John. You know I would," Sherlock said honestly. 

 

"It was a joke, Sherlock," he sighed.

 

"I know... I'm just trying to help you as much as I can," Sherlock said gently. John shook his head and reached over to give Sherlock another kiss. "My John," Sherlock murmured into the kiss.

 

John pulled away and gave a small yawn. "Do you think I'll be able to rest before the next contraction?"

 

"I don't see why you can't try," Sherlock told him.

 

"Okay," he nodded, settling back against the pillows and closing his eyes. Sherlock began humming softly, rubbing John's arm soothingly. It was one of the songs he had written himself especially for John, his favorite even though John claimed that he thought they were all equally wonderful. John smiled and shifted just so that he was a bit closer to his husband. Sherlock smiled and leaned in to kiss John's temple, continuing to hum. John was able to rest for a few minutes before his face screwed up in pain once more. Sherlock stopped rubbing John's arm and slipped is fingers into John's so that he could squeeze. John did and gave a small whimper.

 

"You're amazing, love," Sherlock murmured.

 

"You keep saying these things," he moaned. "But you don't know that they're true. I haven't done anything even remotely amazing. You're just saying them to make me feel better."

 

"I know you're amazing, John. You love me more than anyone else has ever done, and you're giving me a child. That's pretty amazing to me," Sherlock said gently. John nodded and continued to screw up his face in pain until the contraction passed.

 

"You're doing so well, John," Sherlock said encouragingly.

 

John heaved out a heavy sigh and fell back on the pillows, able to rest for a few more minutes. "How far along am I?"

 

The midwife hurried over and checked. "Still six centimeters, sir."

 

John half whimpered, half moaned as he fell back against the pillows, tears springing to his eyes.

 

"Shhh, love... You're doing so well, John," Sherlock murmured, leaning in and kissing John's temple. John shook his head and covered his face with his hands. "You are, John. You're doing so, so well," Sherlock insisted.

 

John huffed a sigh and removed his hands. "Sherlock?"

 

"Yes, love?" Sherlock asked gently. 

 

"Distract me."

 

"What would you like me to do?" 

 

"Talk to me. Anything."

 

"What about names, then? We still need names for our little one," Sherlock suggested, reaching out to brush the hair off of John’s sweat stained forehead.

 

"Names," John nodded.

 

"I'd like to name him Hamish, if it's a boy," Sherlock said. 

 

"Hamish," John repeated. "Why Hamish?"

 

"It's your middle name, isn't it? I want to name him after you," Sherlock shrugged.

 

"Alright," he smiled. "And what if it's a girl."

 

"I don't know... have you got any ideas?" Sherlock asked.

 

“Victoria?”

 

"I like it," Sherlock smiled.

 

"Victoria or Hamish then," he nodded.

 

"I like them very much," Sherlock grinned."What else should we talk about?"

 

"I don't know..." John breathed as he leaned back against the pillows and closed his eyes in an attempt to fight off the dull throb of pain.

 

"How about our anniversary huh? It's coming up in a few months..." Sherlock trailed off. 

 

"Months, Sherlock," he reminded him. "I don't think we'll have much time for celebrations with a baby."

 

"No, but we can still make a nice evening of it," Sherlock said gently. "We can get a nanny for the baby for just a few hours... have a nice romantic dinner in our room. I want to make our first anniversary special."

 

John smiled softly at that. "That sounds really nice," he said longingly.

 

"I'm glad you agree," Sherlock smiled. "We can't let our first anniversary pass without doing something to celebrate."

 

"No, I suppose not," he chuckled lightly.

 

"We'll do whatever you want love," Sherlock said. "I'll even make sure to eat a decent amount of the dinner."

 

John rolled his eyes and squeezed Sherlock's hand. "You don't have to do that."

 

"I will. I know it bothers you when I don't eat," Sherlock said, squeezing John's hand back. 

 

"I want you to eat because you're hungry, not because you're trying to make me happy."

 

"But I enjoy making you happy." Sherlock frowned a bit before continuing. "What else do you want me to do to make you happy, then?"

 

“Sherlock…”

 

"I just... I want to do something special for you," he admitted.

 

"It's alright, love," John shook his head, reaching a hand up to cup Sherlock's cheek.

 

"I feel like I don't do enough special things for you... you deserve so much more," Sherlock said, covering John's hand with his own. 

 

"You do plenty for me. Don't worry about it."

 

“I can’t help it.”

 

John rolled his eyes and laid back against the pillows.

 

"I just want to take care of my husband," Sherlock said softly. 

 

"You're doing fine, love," he assured him.

 

"I feel like I could do better, though..."

 

“And how would you do that?”

 

"Doing little things... things that I never cared about before you," Sherlock shrugged.

 

"It's okay, Sherlock," John said softly, brushing his thumb over the back of Sherlock's hand. "It's not needed but it is much appreciated."

 

"Exactly. That's why I want to do it," Sherlock said, squeezing John's hand slightly. John gave a small smile and squeezed back. "I love you," Sherlock murmured, kissing John gently. John smiled and kissed him back before pulling away abruptly.

 

"Are they getting worse, love?"

 

"Yeah," he barely managed to get out before melting into a whimper.

 

"Shhh... I've got you, love," Sherlock murmured, squeezing John's hand gently. John leaned against him as he clenched his teeth. "I love you so much, John," Sherlock said softly. John nodded, unable to speak.  Sherlock kissed John’s hair and brushed a hand over his cheek. "This will all be over soon, love.” John gripped even harder at the sheets as his face turned red. Sherlock leaned in and kissed John's cheek gently, resting his head on his shoulder. 

 

"This... is so... _hard_..." he groaned.

 

"I know, love... I wish I take your pain away," Sherlock murmured. "I would take your place if I could." 

 

"No, you wouldn't," John shook his head.

 

"Yes I would," Sherlock said. "I'd do anything to take your pain away." 

 

"Sherlock," John huffed. "As much as you love me, I know _you_. I'm sorry, love-- ngh! --but you wouldn't be able to handle it. I know you want to take the pain away but you would want to give it back the second you felt it."

 

Sherlock huffed back and crossed his arms. "I can handle pain."

 

"Oh really?" John gritted his teeth and reached over to give Sherlock a quick pinch. Sherlock pressed his lips together and tried his best not to wince. "See?" John sighed, breathing heavily as the contraction subsided.

 

"You would wince if you were pinched like that," Sherlock grumbled, rubbing his arm. "You pinched me really hard."

 

"No, I didn't. You just can't tolerate pain."

 

Sherlock huffed again and narrowed his eyes. John settled back against the pillows and, noticing Sherlock's expression, gave a small laugh.

 

“What?”

 

"You're trying so hard not to let anything penetrate your rough exterior,” John smirked.

 

"I'm trying not to show weakness," Sherlock mumbled.

 

John rolled his eyes.

 

"It's important, John," Sherlock insisted. "How am I supposed to protect you, protect our child, or run a country if I'm weak?

 

"You're not weak," John sighed, squeezing his hand in reassurance. "You're incredibly strong."

 

“I’m glad you think so…”

 

"Of course I think so. Now stop moping. Aren't you the one that's supposed to be comforting me?"

 

"Yes, I am. I'm sorry I'm doing a poor job, love," Sherlock said sincerely. 

 

“It’s fine, Sherlock.”

 

"Here I am telling you I want to do a better job and I end up doing a worse job as a result," Sherlock frowned.

 

"Sherlock, just stop!" John huffed out in annoyance before gripping the bed sheets again. "Oh _god_! I'm never going to get a rest, am I?" Sherlock squeezed John's hand reassuringly but stayed quiet, not wanting to irritate John even more. John grit his teeth and slumped back against the bed once the contraction had passed. 

 

"They're getting worse," Sherlock said softly. 

 

“No, shit,” John groaned.

 

"I'm sorry, love," Sherlock murmured, squeezing John's hand again.

 

"Please tell me I'm almost ready," he moaned.

 

"Sir?" the midwife asked, waiting for Sherlock's nod before moving in to check John. "Eight centimeters."

 

John breathed a sigh of relief and closed his eyes. "Just two more centimeters..." he told himself.

 

“So close…” Sherlock murmured. John nodded and took a deep breath. "We'll have our baby soon, love," Sherlock smiled.

 

"I'm never going to get to recuperate."

 

"You will," Sherlock assured him.

 

"When?" he sighed. "I'm going to be up all of the time taking care of the baby."

 

"I can take care of the baby as well. I can try and do feedings and I can change nappies," Sherlock said.

 

John let a small smile grace his lips. Sherlock smiled back and leaned in to kiss John gently. John kissed him back and let a hand rest at the back of his neck. "I love you."

 

"I love you, too," Sherlock murmured. He shifted enough to reach John's belly and kissed that too. "And I love you, little one." John smiled lightly and sifted his hand through Sherlock's curls. Sherlock smiled and kissed John's hand. "We'll be parents soon," he grinned.

 

“Is that a scary thought?”

 

"Yes, but it's also so very exciting," Sherlock said.

 

"I just want to meet them... to see what kind of person they'll be," Sherlock murmured. John smiled and pressed a kiss to his cheek. "Our little baby..." mused Sherlock.

 

"I still can't believe this is actually happening,” John admitted.

 

"Neither can I, sometimes.”

 

"Do you think you're going to want another one?" John asked softly.

 

"I do if you do," Sherlock said softly. "Do you?"

 

"I don't know," he swallowed. "Let's see how hard this birth is."

 

“That’s understandable,” Sherlock nodded. John gave his hand another squeeze before squeezing it exponentially harder and not letting go. Sherlock grit his teeth and said nothing, knowing John was going though much more pain than a squeezed hand. John clenched his jaw and squeezed his eyes shut, a whimper escaping him. "Just a bit longer," Sherlock said, kissing John's knuckles. 

 

"Not bloody soon enough," he said through gritted teeth. John tried to lay back but ended up burying his face in Sherlock's neck.

 

"Do you want to move around a bit more?" Sherlock asked gently, running his fingers though John's hair.

 

"In...In a minute..." he groaned.

 

“Take your time, love.”

 

John panted heavily as the contraction ended and he fell back against the pillows.

 

"Better?" Sherlock asked, kissing John's knuckles again. 

 

“Slightly,” he breathed.

 

"I wish I could help more, love," Sherlock said softly. 

 

John took a few deep breaths before slowly sitting up and awkwardly swinging his legs off of the bed. Sherlock offered John his other hand and helped him stand, supporting him until he felt John could stand on his own.

 

"Let's go get me a drink of water," he said, slowly shuffling to the door.

 

"Of course, love. Let's go," Sherlock said, wrapping an arm around John's waist. John steadied himself and used Sherlock for support as they made their ways towards the kitchen.

 

"I've got you, love," Sherlock murmured as they walked. John nodded and clutched his arm a bit tighter as Sherlock supported most of his weight. Finally down in the kitchen, Sherlock settled John onto a stool so that he could fetch him a glass of water. John took a moment to catch his breath and closed his eyes. "You alright, love?" Sherlock asked softly as he handed John his glass. 

 

 

"Yeah, just tired," he nodded, taking a sip of the water.

 

"It'll all be over soon, love," Sherlock murmured, cupping John's cheek. John nodded and took another gulp of water. Sherlock sipped his own water, hovering at John's side in case he was needed. John finished the water quickly and handed the glass back to him.

 

"Ready to go back, love?" Sherlock asked gently.

 

"Can we walk around a bit more?"

 

"Anything you want, love," Sherlock assured him. John gave a small smile and carefully got off of the stool. Sherlock wrapped his arm around John's waist again. "Where do you want to go?"

 

"I don't know... Anywhere," he shook his head. "You choose."

 

"We'll walk around the bedrooms, then. That way we'll be nice and close to our rooms just in case," Sherlock said.

 

"Okay," he nodded as Sherlock began leading him back upstairs.

 

"Tell me if you need to go back, love," Sherlock murmured. 

 

"I will," he assured him.

 

Sherlock smiled and kissed John's forehead. "Come on, love. Let's go have a baby." John smiled softly and let Sherlock lead him down the hall. "Do you want to go and visit the nursery?" Sherlock asked. 

 

"Yeah, that sounds good," he nodded with a smile. Sherlock smiled softly and kissed John's temple again as they walked. John grinned as they entered the nursery and sat down in the rocking chair. "I love it in here."

 

"You did an amazing job," Sherlock said, walking around the room and trailing his fingers over all of the baby things. "This is a wonderful room for our child, love."

 

"God, I just want to stay in here forever," he mused. "Probably will be for awhile."

 

"You and me both," Sherlock smiled softly. John returned the smile and absently looked around the room. "What are you thinking about?" Sherlock asked curiously.

 

John shrugged. "Just taking it all in." He smiled again before abruptly bending over in pain.

 

"Do you want to go back, love?"

 

"Just... just let me get through this one..." he said through gritted teeth. Once the contraction had passed, John slumped back in the chair, even more worn out than before. He sat there another minute more, taking deep breaths in and out, before nodding. "Okay, I'm ready." Sherlock nodded and helped John up, heading back to their rooms slowly. John's breath was short by the time they returned and he fell onto the bed with a deep sigh.

 

“Do you want to be checked again?”

 

John closed his eyes and nodded, willing the lingering pangs of pain to disperse. Sherlock waved the midwife over and stepped back to give her room to work. She checked John quickly and smiled when she stood back up. "Ten centimeters, sir. You can push when you feel the next contraction."

 

"Okay," John nodded breathlessly. "Just give me a sec- ngh!" John clenched his teeth in pain and sat up, holding his stomach.

 

"It's alright, love," Sherlock said, squeezing John's hand.

 

John took a few deep breaths before repositioning himself and gripping tightly to the sheets.

 

"Tell me what I can do to help, love," Sherlock said. He was starting to get nervous now. There was a real live baby coming into their lives within minutes or hours and there was no going back now. He was going to be a father, ready or not.

 

"Just... hold my hand,” John mumbled.

 

“Of course, love.”

 

John gave Sherlock's hand one last squeeze before beginning to push. Sherlock held John's hand tightly, not sure what he should say to encourage his husband without sounding like a broken record. John's face screwed up in pain as he pushed and let out a low moan.

 

"It'll be over soon, love," Sherlock murmured, hoping John couldn't tell how nervous he was. The midwife counted to ten before John could rest for a few seconds, then it was back to pushing.

 

"Starting to crown," the midwife said encouragingly. John whimpered as it became harder and he squeezed Sherlock's hand like his life depended on it. Sherlock bit his lip as John squeezed his hand, not daring to make a sound out of fear that it would come out as a whimper of pain. John pushed as the midwife counted and stopped once she got to ten. They continued in this fashion for what seemed like days to the expecting parents.

 

"Just one more and the head will be out," the midwife said encouragingly.  
  
"You're doing so well, love," Sherlock murmured. John nodded, sweat pouring down his face.

 

"The head is out," the midwife announced, beginning to clear the mucus from the baby's airways. John had a sudden intake of breath and he took a deep breath before pushing again with a new found energy. Sherlock kissed John's knuckles and craned his neck, trying to get a look at their baby without leaving John's side. John panted as he stopped again and breathed deeply. "I can do this..." he told himself before pushing again.

 

"You can, John. You're so close," Sherlock murmured.

 

“Just a few more, sir,” the midwife encouraged. John took another deep breath and pushed, squeezing Sherlock's hand. He groaned at the effort and clenched his eyes shut.

 

“Almost there, love.”

 

John took a second to breathe once the midwife reached ten and then grabbed Sherlock's hand as he pushed. Sherlock squeezed back gently.  
  
"Shoulders are almost out," the midwife announced. John took a deep breath and pushed again.

 

"Shoulders are out. Just one more big push, Your Highness," the midwife said. “Give it all you’ve got and the baby will be here.”

 

John nodded his head and took one more deep breath before pushing with all the energy he had.

 

"It's a boy," the midwife announced, catching the child as he slid from John's body and began to cry.  
  
Sherlock grinned widely and pressed a kiss to John's sweaty temple. "A boy," he breathed happily. "A little boy."

 

"A boy," he smiled, panting heavily as he fell back against the pillows. The midwife smiled and set the newborn on John's chest, wriggling and screaming, as soon as she cut the cord. 

 

"Hey there," John said softly and a bit hysterically. "Welcome to the world, love." He kissed the infants soft head as tears poured down his face.

 

"He's beautiful, love," Sherlock murmured, gazing at their son in wonder. 

 

"Our little boy," he whispered.

 

"God, we've got a baby now," Sherlock said, reaching out to rub their son's back gently. "Our little boy..." 

 

"Shhh," John soothed gently. "You're alright, Hamish."

 

"If he's anything like you I bet he wants to eat," Sherlock said with a small smile.

 

John rolled his eyes. "Come off it. He's just upset that he was taken out of his small, dark, warm spot."

 

"He might be," Sherlock conceded. "But he's probably hungry as well."

 

"Probably," John nodded with a sigh.

 

"I hope he does have your appetite," Sherlock said softly. "Mine is far from healthy."

 

"I'm sure you didn't start out that way."

 

"I'm not sure... I never asked," Sherlock said with a small frown.

 

John rolled his eyes and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

 

"He’s shivering..." Sherlock noticed, casting an eye around for a blanket. 

 

"He should get cleaned up," John nodded, attempting to wipe off the blood and placental tissue coating their son's skin and his chest. The midwife handed Sherlock a towel and Sherlock rubbed gently over Hamish's back and sides, making sure to get all the bits of blood off of his skin. Hamish protested but soon settled down, nuzzling against John's chest.

 

"Do you... do you think I could hold him so you can clean his front and your chest?" Sherlock asked hesitantly.

 

"Of course. He is your son, Sherlock, you don't have to ask to hold him."

 

"I just wasn't sure if you were ready to let him go yet," Sherlock said. John smiled softly and shifted Hamish to his husband's arms. Sherlock looked down at Hamish and smiled, his heart warming at the knowledge that he'd helped to create this perfect child. John grinned at the sight of Hamish in his father's arms and finished wiping him down before cleaning himself up.

 

"He's beautiful... Has your eyes."

 

"We'll have to see if he keeps them," Sherlock murmured. He shifted Hamish carefully and freed one of his hands, using it to stroke Hamish's chubby cheek softly. John smiled and reached over to press another kiss to their son's head. "He's perfect," Sherlock said softly, looking down at Hamish lovingly.

 

"He is," John agreed.

 

Hamish wriggled in Sherlock's arms before placing his head against his chest and nodding off. "Come here," Sherlock murmured, leaning forward carefully so that he didn't jostle Hamish.

 

John smiled and leaned forward. "What is it?"

 

"I love you," Sherlock said, pressing their lips together softly. 

 

"I love you too," he murmured and kissed him back chastely. "I love you so much that I just gave you a child. And because of that I am absolutely exhausted. Will you be alright with him if I rest for a bit?"

 

"Of course, love," Sherlock said, smiling softly and pecking John again quickly. "Hamish is sleeping so he shouldn't be too much trouble at the moment... not sure how long it will last, though.

 

John nodded. "Prepare yourself for the sleepless nights."

 

"They'll be worth it in the end," Sherlock said softly, leaning down to kiss Hamish's head gently.

 

"I'm going to clean up before I take a nap," John said as he moved to get up and stopped. "Or not..."

 

"Are you sore, love?" Sherlock asked gently. 

 

John winced and closed his eyes. "A bit," he said in a strained voice.

 

"Can you take anything to relieve the pain?" Sherlock asked. 

 

"Ask the midwife," John said, easing himself back down.

 

"Well?" Sherlock said, turning to the midwife and raising an eyebrow.   
  
The midwife turned and rummaged through her supplies, pulling out a small bottle of pills. "One of these should help, but no more than one."

 

"Okay," John nodded, taking the bottle from her and popping a pill into his mouth. "Thank you."

 

"You're welcome, sir," the midwife said, nodding and retreating to her discrete position by the door.   
  
"Sleep now, love," Sherlock murmured, kissing John gently. 

 

"Wake me if he cries or you need help," John said softly, kissing him back.

 

"I will," Sherlock promised. "You rest." John nodded and settled back against the bed, closing his eyes.

 

While John rested, Sherlock's attention was focused completely on Hamish, committing his features to memory. Hamish was still sleeping and was curled up against Sherlock's chest, breathing softly. "You're such a handsome boy, Hamish," Sherlock murmured, stroking his cheek again. "You're perfect... You'll always be perfect to Daddy and I no matter what. We love you very very much, Hamish..."

 

Hamish stirred in his sleep and yawned quietly before nuzzling against Sherlock's chest.

 

"Hello, love," Sherlock smiled, stroking Hamish's hair. "That was a very quick nap."

 

Hamish blinked up at him with wondering eyes and reached his small hand up to grasp at Sherlock's large one.

 

"You sure are a strong little thing," Sherlock mused, letting Hamish grip his finger and smiling down at his little boy. Hamish continued to look up at his father, a toothless smile crossing his face when he gripped Sherlock's finger.

 

"I can't wait to teach you things, Hamish," Sherlock murmured. "We'll have so much fun, you and me and Daddy."

 

Hamish continued to stare up at his father with bright eyes before yawning again.

 

"You must be tired, still. You've had a big day," Sherlock said gently, beginning to rock Hamish gently. Hamish's eyes fluttered open and shut, trying to stay awake and look at this new world, but desperately tired.

 

"Sleep, Hamish. Papa's here to protect you," Sherlock murmured, continuing to rock Hamish and beginning to hum a soft tune that had been forming in his head since John first placed Hamish in his arms. He couldn't wait to get his hands on his violin so he could start fleshing out the lullaby. 


	6. Sleepless Nights

Hamish slept peacefully for a few hours before waking again with loud wails. John heard the crying and jolted bolt upright, a little too quickly, and let out a cry of pain. "Sherlock?! Is Hamish alright?"

 

"He's fine, he's fine," Sherlock said hastily, trying to soothe Hamish. "I think he's hungry."

 

Sherlock rocked him back and forth with a bounce and shushed him quietly to no avail. “Come on, love. You’re okay. I’ve got you.”

 

"Give him here," John said quickly, holding out his arms and wincing again.

 

“Be careful, love,” he said as he placed Hamish gently into John's arms.

 

"Hey..." John said softly, bouncing Hamish in his arms. "It's okay." Sherlock watched John and Hamish together, smiling warmly at the image. Hamish continued to sniffle but quieted down as John hummed softly.

 

"You're so good with him..." Sherlock murmured.

 

"Natural instincts, Sherlock."

 

"I know… That doesn't mean that it's not true,” he said, leaning in and kissing John's cheek. John blushed and rocked Hamish back and forth. "I've started to write a lullaby for him," Sherlock said softly, reaching out to brush Hamish's hair.

 

"You have?"

 

"Yeah... it's just started coming together, I've hardly got anything yet, but it's off to a good start," Sherlock said softly.

 

"I'd love to hear it," John smiled.

 

"Of course," Sherlock murmured, taking a breath and beginning to hum softly. John smiled softly and looked back down at Hamish, finding that their son had fallen silent and was watching Sherlock with fascination. Sherlock smiled and continued humming, nuzzling John's cheek and gazing down at Hamish. Hamish continued to star up at his parents until his eyes slowly began to blink closed and his breathing evened out.

 

"I love you both so much..." Sherlock murmured against John's skin as he finished humming.

 

"I love you too," John murmured, closing his eyes in contentment.

 

"Did you like it?" Sherlock asked, anxious to hear John's opinion. 

 

“I loved it," he smiled, squeezing Sherlock's hand. "It's beautiful."

 

"It's got a long way to go, still," Sherlock murmured. "It will be even better once it's finished.”

 

"I don't doubt that," he said softly.

 

"It certainly helped to get him to sleep earlier," Sherlock said gently. 

 

"He woke up again?" John asked in concern. "You should have woken me."

 

"We were fine, love," Sherlock assured him.

 

"Are you sure?"

 

"I'm positive. He didn't even cry," Sherlock told him. “I would have woken you if I needed you.”

 

John nodded and looked back down at their sleeping son.

 

Sherlock nuzzled John's cheek again. "We're parents, now."

 

"God, I know," he breathed. "It hasn't quite sunk in yet."

 

"No, it hasn't," Sherlock agreed.

 

"Everything's going to change now," he whispered.

 

"It certainly will," Sherlock said softly. 

 

 

* * *

 

It took quite a few days for John to rest and recuperate as well as trying to take care of a newborn. Hamish liked to wake his parents up at least three times in the middle of the night and John groaned every time he had to get up out of bed. Waking up to Hamish's cries for the second time that night Sherlock groaned and flung his arm over his eyes. He'd never though that he would miss sleeping, but having a lack of sleep imposed on you rather than no sleeping of your own volition were two very different things. 

 

"Your turn," John groaned.

 

"I know," Sherlock sighed, pushing himself up and out of bed before shuffling over to the cot tucked against the wall closest to their bed. Hamish's face was scrunched up and red, wailing and thrashing his arms and legs. "Hush, little one. Papa's got you," Sherlock murmured gently, picking Hamish up and holding him close as he went back to bed after checking that his nappy was still clean. "He's hungry," he sighed, handing Hamish over to John. 

 

“Or just wants to be held,” John groaned and sat up, rubbing at his eyes with a yawn. "Come here, love."

 

"Should I fetch my violin?" Sherlock asked as he got up again.

 

"It might settle him," John nodded, lightly bouncing the boy against his shoulder.

 

Sherlock nodded and retrieved his violin from the chair he had left it on last night after playing for Hamish for over an hour, checking that the strings were still in tune. 

"Hey now," John cooed. "It's alright, love. Papa's going to play for you. You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

 

Sherlock began playing Hamish's lullaby, which was already nearly finished due to the number of times he had played it over the last few days. Hamish continued to wail and John grimaced. "He's not quieting down."

 

"Do you think he's ill? Has he got a fever?" Sherlock asked worriedly.

 

"No," John shook his head.

 

"What's wrong, then?" 

 

"I don't know, Sherlock! I don't have an answer for everything!"

 

"Maybe it's colic. Mummy has told me that I was very colic-ie as a baby," Sherlock suggested. 

 

"Maybe," John sighed, rocking Hamish a bit faster. "Please stop crying, love. You're alright. I've got you."

 

"Do you think it would help if I walked him around?" Sherlock asked. 

 

"You could try," he said as he adjusted Hamish in his arms.

 

"Alright, then," Sherlock said, setting his violin aside and gently taking Hamish from John. "Hush now, Hamish," he said softly, bouncing Hamish slightly as he paced. "You need to sleep." Hamish continued to cry and let out a hiccup every few seconds. Sherlock began rubbing Hamish's back and humming, hoping something would help sent him to sleep or at least quiet him a bit. 

 

“Wait a second," John said quickly and tried to get out of bed. "I have an idea but I need to go to the nursery."

 

"I can go, love. You tell me what you need and you rest," Sherlock said.

 

"His lion," John said softly, sitting back in bed. "It should be in his cot. It usually helps him sleep."

 

"I'll get it. Do you want to take Hamish or should I keep him?" Sherlock asked.

 

"I'll hold him. Best not wake up the rest of the palace with his crying."

 

“Back to Daddy you go, Hamish," Sherlock said softly, kissing Hamish's forehead as he handed him back to John. "I'll be right back, love."

 

John nodded and rocked Hamish back and forth again to try and quiet him in vain. Sherlock hurried to the nursery and snatched up the stuffed, lion, rushing back to their rooms to find Hamish still sobbing. 

 

"Give it here," John said quickly, reaching out a hand for the lion. Sherlock handed over the lion and sat cross-legged on the bed, watching John and Hamish.

 

"Look, Hamish! It's your lion!" John said cheerfully, trying to get his son to quiet down.

 

"He wants to sleep with you, but you're crying so very loud..." Sherlock said softly. Hamish continued to sniffle but quieted just a little when the toy lion was placed in his arms. "There you are," Sherlock said softly, stroking Hamish's arm gently. "Lion likes it when Hamish is quiet..." Hamish continued to hiccup as he looked up at his father. "My little Hamish," Sherlock murmured, leaning in to kiss Hamish's forehead again. 

 

"Shh… There now," John murmured as he rocked Hamish back and forth. Sherlock smiled as Hamish grew quiet, brushing at his hair again. Hamish quieted down, save for the occasional hiccup, and stared up at his parents.

"We did it," Sherlock sighed in relief.

"We did it," John nodded with an equally relieved smile. "Hopefully he'll stay this way."

"I don't mind sitting up with him as long as he's quiet. You should rest, love," Sherlock said softly.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. I'm sure," Sherlock said, kissing John's forehead. "Give him to me."

John smiled down at their son and placed a tender kiss to his head before reluctantly handing him over. "Sleep well, my little prince," he said softly.

Sherlock smiled softly and took Hamish, holding him against his chest. "Good night, my love," he said, kissing John gently on the lips.

"Good night," he whispered back, letting his lips linger. Sherlock smiled and leaned against their headboard, rocking Hamish gently and humming. John watched Sherlock and Hamish silently for a while before finally closing his eyes and nodding off.

After about half an hour of Sherlock's soft humming and Hamish's eyes drifted closed and Sherlock got up and tucked him back in his cot gently, kissing his forehead before climbing back into bed and wrapping his arms around John. John barely shifted in his sleep but let out a soft sigh as Sherlock's arms encircled him. Sherlock smiled softly and kissed the spot just behind John's ear before closing his eyes and nuzzling the back of his neck.

John shifted against him. "G'night," he mumbled.

"Good night my love," Sherlock murmured.

John fell back asleep and Hamish didn't cry for the rest of the night.


	7. Public Appearance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the next chapter! We're planning on writing a short vignette of John and Sherlock spending their first Christmas together so keep your eyes peeled for that. As always, thanks for reading and your comments are much appreciated!

Apart from the endlessly boring meetings with his father and the advisors, the thing that Sherlock hated the most about being the crown prince was having to make public appearances. They had gone slightly better ever since he married John, but he very much wanted to keep Hamish out of the public eye as much as possible.

 

"Sherlock, you know we have to show him sooner or later," John sighed as he toweled a wriggling Hamish dry from his bath. He brought Hamish over to the changing table they had moved into their room and laid him down. "It's better that we do it now than when he's fifteen."

 

"I know. I just don't want the paparazzi to get their grubby hands on him," Sherlock complained, taking Hamish from John to dress him.

 

"If any paparazzi go near him, I'm sure you'll give them a black eye," he smirked.

 

"I will, too. I don't care about my own reputation when it comes to protecting you and Hamish.”

 

"Always the protective Alpha," John patted Sherlock's cheek as he walked past to grab his suit jacket for the presentation.

 

"Do you mind? I can try to tone it down..." Sherlock said nervously.

 

"No, you're absolutely fine, love," John smiled and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek.

 

"Good," Sherlock said with a small smile, trying to avoid manhandling the heavy velvet baby robes onto Hamish.

 

"Let me do it," John smiled and took Hamish out of Sherlock's arms.

 

Sherlock huffed and folded his arms. "I don't know why that thing hasn't been replaced. It's been around since well before my grandparents were around."

 

"Does he have to wear it?" John questioned as he finally got Hamish into the robes after much wiggling and cries of protest on Hamish’s part.

 

"The people are expecting it," Sherlock sighed. "It's traditional. If it was up to me we wouldn't be doing this at all."

 

John nodded and finished adjusting Hamish's robes. "There we are!" The heavy velvet robes hung off of Hamish’s body like large amounts of extra skin and weighed him down by an extra five pounds.

 

"I'm sorry you have to put up with this, Hamish," Sherlock said, kissing Hamish's wispy hair. Hamish gurgled at the kiss and reached his hands up towards his father. "Come here, little prince," Sherlock said, lifting Hamish into his arms.

 

"Now isn't that a pretty picture," John smiled at the pair of them. Hamish gripped onto Sherlock's shirt and rested his head against his chest.

 

"See? He's much to innocent to go out into the real world yet," Sherlock said, rubbing Hamish's back.

 

John snorted. "Yeah, well he can come right back inside when it's over."

 

"And he's not coming back out until he's twenty.”

 

John chuckled and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. "Come on. Let's get this over with."

 

"You're meant to be carrying him," Sherlock sighed, kissing Hamish's forehead before passing him back over to John.

 

"Oh. Okay," John said as he adjusted Hamish in his arms.

 

"I hate how organized these things are," Sherlock grumbled, wrapping an arm around John's waist.

 

John smiled as they left their chambers and headed down the hall. "I know. You've been complaining about it for a week.”

 

"And you'll hear it again if we have a second.”

 

"Hey," John said softly. "Stop worrying so much."

 

"I can't help it. I just want to keep him safe," Sherlock grumbled.

 

"He is safe, Sherlock. He's right here in my arms and he's not going anywhere."

 

"I mean from the world," Sherlock said, waving his hand.

 

"You know you can't make that happen," he smiled sadly.

 

“I can try though,” Sherlock smiled back ruefully.

 

“I know, love.”

 

Sherlock rubbed a hand over his face and sighed. “He’s just so innocent…”

 

"He's only a month old, Sherlock," John reminded him gently.

 

"Exactly," he sighed.

 

“He’ll be _fine_.”

 

Sherlock sighed and kissed John quickly. "Let's get it over with then."

 

Sherlock lead John to the doors that opened out to the balcony and nodded for the doors to be opened.

 

“You ready for this?” John asked.

 

“I have to be,” Sherlock sighed.

 

"It'll be alright," John murmured as they stepped out onto the balcony.

 

Sherlock nodded and plastered on his public appearance face, raising his hand to wave to cheering crowd. John smiled politely and bounced Hamish in his arms, moving Hamish’s arm for him with a small wave. Their names and titles were announced as they waved, starting with Sherlock and then moving to Hamish, with John coming last. John swallowed hard, the Omega was always last, but he made no visible sign of being irked as he waved to the crowd. Sherlock squeezed John's waist subtly and continued to wave. He knew that John hated that his gender essentially made him second best.

 

"How long to we have to be out here?" he murmured.

 

"Not much longer," Sherlock assured him.

 

"Give them a better look. Then they'll be happy and we can bring him back inside," Sherlock murmured.

 

"Okay," John nodded and held Hamish up a little bit higher. Hamish giggled a little at the movement and John bent to blow a raspberry on his cheek and make him giggle more. Sherlock couldn’t keep the smile from edging onto his face as he looked down at John and Hamish. Hamish giggled more and John grinned at the boy as he bounced him up and down. Sherlock grinned and leaned down to kiss John and Hamish before giving the crowd one last wave and leading John back inside.

 

"Thank god that's over," John breathed as he adjusted Hamish to his shoulder. “You gave them quite the show out there. I thought public displays of affection were beneath you.”

 

"Never again," Sherlock groaned, taking Hamish from John. "You'll be just fine growing up inside the palace walls, won't you Hamish?"

 

John chuckled and pressed a kiss to Hamish's soft curls. "Well, maybe a year or so. Or until we go on a trip."

 

"We'll see," Sherlock said, kissing Hamish's forehead.

 

John smirked as they began walking back to their chambers.

 

"What are you smirking about?" Sherlock asked, beginning to work off Hamish's stiff presentation robes.

 

"You," he smiled. "It's slightly amusing how protective you are over me and Hamish."

 

"I'm the Alpha. It's my job to protect my family," Sherlock shrugged, tickling under Hamish's chin. Hamish giggled and squirmed, grabbing at Sherlock's finger. Sherlock smiled down at Hamish and kissed his little knuckles before beginning to change his nappy once they were back in the room. John plopped down on the bed with a deep sigh and rubbed his face. It had been a long day and showing Hamish off had been the pinnacle.

 

"Are you alright, love?" Sherlock asked gently, carrying Hamish over to the bed after changing him and sitting down next to John.

 

"I'm alright," he mumbled, an arm thrown over his face.

 

“Tired?”

 

“Yes,” he mumbled.

 

"I can tell when you're trying to keep things from me, John," Sherlock murmured gently. "Please tell me what's wrong?"

 

“It’s not important.”

 

“It’s important to me if it’s affecting you.”

 

"Just leave it," he groaned and turned over.

 

Sherlock sighed and looked down at Hamish. “You know I'm here if you change your mind, love."

 

John nodded and was silent for a quite awhile before swallowing hard and rolling over. "When will we know?" he asked softly.

 

"Know what?" Sherlock asked in confusion.

 

"Know what he is," John said quietly as he reached out to softly stroke Hamish's arm.

 

"You're worried he'll be an Omega like you. That’s what’s upsetting you," Sherlock said softly. John nodded and continued to gaze at Hamish.

 

"I don't know but I expect it will be sometime around puberty. But I won't abandon him, John. I love him too much for that," Sherlock assured him.

 

"It's not you that I worry about," he murmured. "It's the world."

 

"What are you worried they'll do to him?" Sherlock asked softly. 

 

"What they do to every Omega. Ridicule, harass, belittle, you name it," John sighed. "And what if our next child is an Alpha and Hamish is an Omega? He won't be allowed the throne that is rightfully his."

 

"You can't worry about that now, love. You'll wear yourself out thinking of it for years," Sherlock said gently.

 

"But I can't stop thinking about it! I'm reminded of it every single second of every day."

 

"Then we'll figure something out," Sherlock said. "I'll change laws if I have to."

 

“The people won’t like that.”

 

"I don't care. If it helps you and our son, I'll do whatever I can," Sherlock said softly. 

 

John nodded and closed his eyes with a sigh.

 

"Is that all that's bothering you?" Sherlock asked gently. 

 

“You know what else.”

 

“I’m afraid I don’t, love.”

 

John clenched his eyes shut and shook his head.

 

"Please, love?" Sherlock asked gently. "I want to be able to help you."

 

“I hate this,” he groaned. "I hate being an Omega!"

 

"I understand why you hate it, love, but I don't," Sherlock murmured.

 

“And why is that?”

 

"Because if you weren't an Omega, I wouldn't have you or Hamish. You two are the best things in my life," Sherlock said softly.

 

"I love you too," John said softly. "But that doesn't make the pain go away."

 

"I know. I wish I could do something to help you, love," Sherlock said softly, laying next to John and snuggling Hamish gently between their bodies and with one of his hands resting on John's hip. John placed his hand on top of Sherlock's and just gazed at him for awhile as Hamish climbed on top of his stomach.

 

"Look at our little prince... He's growing up so fast already," Sherlock said softly, hoping to distract John from his mood.

 

"I know," he whispered, looking down at Hamish. "Soon he'll be crawling around and walking."

 

"And we'll teach him to read and write and play the violin..." Sherlock smiled at the thought.

 

"You mean you will," he smiled.

 

"Well I'll teach him the violin, but we can both teach him how to read together," Sherlock smiled.

 

“Okay,” John smiled softly.

 

"And we'll do the same for our next little prince or princess," Sherlock said with a smile.

 

"Would you like a little brother or sister, Hamish?" John murmured as he picked Hamish up and bounced him up and down.

 

"I think he might need to be a little older to answer that question," Sherlock chuckled softly. "What do you want next?"

 

“We don’t get to choose, Sherlock.”

 

“But what do you want?” Sherlock asked again, propping himself up on his elbow.

 

"I'd love to have a boy and a girl," John said simply. "But I'll be content with whatever we get."

 

"So you want a little princess next?" Sherlock grinned. "I think that would be perfect."

 

"A little princess would be lovely," he grinned. "What do you want?"

 

"I think a little girl would be nice, but I've not had much experience with girls..."

 

"Nor have I," John laughed. "I have a sister but I tried to spend as much time away from her as possible."

 

"If we have a girl we'll keep her from turning out like your sister did," Sherlock assured him.

 

John rolled his eyes and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

 

"You're adorable," Sherlock grinned.

 

John blushed and pressed a soft kiss to Sherlock's lips.

 

"My beautiful mate," Sherlock grinned. "Love you so much..."

 

“I love you too,” John murmured.


	8. *Christmas Part 1*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the long absence! We were going to write a short Christmas vignette for you guys and then it turned into a multi-chapter flashback. I've also been studying abroad in London since the end of December so the time difference makes it a bit hard to write together. There is lots of fluff and Christmasyness in this one, but there's also a whole lot of exposition. I'll have part 2 posted as soon as I can. Please leave comments! They're always appreciated and help us make the story better. :)
> 
> -broadwaybound

Christmas was drawing near at the palace and work for getting it decorated was in full swing. Servants wound garland around the staircase and hung holly in ever nook and cranny. No detail was left unthought of. John's favorite decoration was the enormous, twenty-five foot tall Christmas tree in the grand ballroom. There were no real presents under it, but it was a sight to behold in all its splendor. Tinsel and beads and ornaments galore hung on each branch. Sherlock had promised John their own Christmas tree to put in their chambers and today they were supposed to go cut one down, per John's request. He had never gone out and done it himself and he wanted to do it properly for once. John nicked a small bunch of mistletoe and made his way to the door to Sherlock's study, knocking on it quietly. "Sherlock?"

 

"Come in, Sherlock called, looking up from the paperwork in front of him. It was giving him a headache, and he was glad for John giving him an excuse to set it aside.

 

"Merry Christmas," John grinned, leaning over the desk, slightly awkwardly due to his pregnant belly, and holding the mistletoe above their heads.

 

Sherlock cupped John's cheek and grinned as he pecked John's lips. "Merry Christmas."

 

"That was a bit of a cop out," John pouted, pulling him in for a deeper kiss.

 

Sherlock chuckled against John's lips and kissed John properly.

 

John tried to pull Sherlock closer, sucking on his bottom lip, but frowned when his belly got in the way. "Too damn large," he huffed, breaking away long enough to walk around the desk.

 

Sherlock chuckled and settled his hands on John's hips, guiding him to sit on the edge of his desk. "Better, love?"

 

"Much," he smirked, pulling Sherlock down for another sensuous kiss.

 

 Sherlock kissed back eagerly, running his hands up John's sides.

 

"So..." John mumbled in between kisses. "Are we going to get that Christmas tree?"

 

"Well... if you keep kissing me we might not be leaving for quite a while..." Sherlock murmured.

 

John sighed and reluctantly pushed Sherlock away. "Alright then," he said with a small smile, holding out his hand. "Let's go chop down that tree."

 

Sherlock pouted playfully. "You owe me more kissing later, then."

 

"Which I will happily oblige to," he grinned before pulling Sherlock out of the room.

 

"Good," Sherlock grinned, following John out the door. "And how's our little one doing today?"

 

"Alright," John shrugged, running a hand absentmindedly over his stomach. "He or she hasn't been kicking too much today. Last night was horrendous though."

 

"You should have told me," Sherlock chastised gently. "I would have rubbed your belly or played my violin for you."

 

"You were working in your study, remember?"

 

"You could have come and gotten me."

 

"I didn't want to bother you," John shook his head. "I know how busy you are."

 

"Yes, but you're more important," Sherlock insisted.

 

John blushed and gave Sherlock's hand a squeeze. "I was fine," he mumbled.

 

"Yes, but next time you should come tell me," Sherlock said.

 

“Duly noted.”

 

"What sort of tree do you want then?" Sherlock asked.

 

"A small fir," John nodded in determination. "That's the kind of tree you use for a Christmas tree."

 

"A skinny one, or a fat one?"

 

"A fat one," John said, giving him a pointed look. "You don't know very much about Christmas, do you?"

 

Sherlock shrugged. "I've never given it much thought, honestly."

 

"You deleted it, didn't you?"

 

"I'm afraid so," Sherlock said sheepishly.

 

The pair made their way downstairs to bundle up outside the grand entrance hall. "Why was that? Did you think it wasn't important?" John asked. "Surely you would have enjoyed it as a child."

 

"I suppose I never thought I'd need it again," Sherlock shrugged.

 

"Never need Christmas?" John asked in shock.

 

"It's not something that comes up in every day life, is it?" Sherlock asked.

 

"It comes around every year."

 

"But it doesn't impact how this country is run."

 

John stopped buttoning his jacket and frowned. "You're more than just the country. You know that, right?"

 

Sherlock sighed. "Not as well as I should, it seems."

 

John reached up and pressed a kiss to his cheek. "You have to divorce yourself from 'the country when you're not working or in public or you'll be losing a great deal of who you are."

 

"You'll likely have to help me with that," Sherlock murmured.

 

"I promise I will," John smiled and gave Sherlock's hand a squeeze.

 

 

Outside, the palace grounds were the perfect example of a white Christmas. Snow dusted every possible surface and it was a magical wonderland in John's eyes. Light's hung from the most prominent trees and even from parts of the castle. "Can we walk through the gardens later?" John asked as they trudged through the powder to a small, forested area on the edge of the grounds. He hadn't been outside much since he had started to show, and the fall and winter months rolled in. There was never much of a reason to go out and Sherlock constantly insisted that John stay inside and rest. Those orders became harder and harder to obey as the holiday season came upon them.

 

Sherlock squeezed John's hand and watched him look around the grounds with a small smile. "Like what you see, love?"

 

"It's beautiful," he grinned. "We should have come out here much sooner. I want to walk around in the snow and gaze at all this for hours."

 

"Well, we do have to find our tree, and I imagine you want to find the perfect one. It might take some time," Sherlock said, smiling softly as he led John out onto the grounds.

 

 

The pair walked down the shoveled path to the thicket of trees. Snow covered most of them and John knew that they would only need a small tree for their room. The smaller trees littered the front and John walked around them, searching for the perfect one. "What about this one?" John asked, pointing to a small fir just under four feet tall.

 

Sherlock eyed the tree contemplatively. "Is it maybe a bit small?

 

"You want a six foot tree in our bedroom?" John raised an eyebrow.

 

"No, I suppose not," he conceded.

 

"Well, I like this one," John said, reaching for the axe in Sherlock's hand, ready to take a swing.

 

Sherlock moved the axe out of John's reach quickly. "I know you don't like being treated like you're breakable, love, but I think I'd better take care of the chopping.

 

John pouted and reached for the axe again. "I'm fine, Sherlock. I can manage."

 

"You are seven months pregnant, John. I really think I should handle it," Sherlock insisted.

 

John huffed in frustration and stepped aside. "My first time going out to cut down a Christmas tree and I don't even get to take a swing..."

 

Sherlock sighed softly. "I just want you and our baby to be safe, love. If you weren't pregnant, I'd let you do all of it."

 

John frowned and crossed his arms, giving Sherlock enough room to cut down the tree. "One swing won't kill me..." he muttered under his breath.

 

"Please, John... don't be upset about this," Sherlock said gently.

 

John rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Just chop it down."

 

"Alright, alright," Sherlock said, beginning to chop at the tree.

 

It took Sherlock less than a minute to slice through the tree before John yelled, "Wait! Let me do the last chop. Please?"

 

Sherlock studied John's face for a moment, and then glanced at the gouge he'd made in the tree. "Alright," he sighed.

 

John grinned and gingerly took the axe from Sherlock before winding up for the final swing. He swung the axe through the air and it hit the tree with a final thud, causing the trunk to crack and fall over. "We did it!" John beamed. "We cut down our first Christmas tree."

 

"Yes, we did," Sherlock grinned. "I think it's a nice little tree, too."

 

John grinned and reached up on his toes to press a kiss to Sherlock's cheek. "I hope you don't mind carrying it."

 

"Of course I don't mind carrying it," Sherlock chuckled, kissing the tip of John's nose.

 

 

The tree was set up in the corner of Sherlock and John's room and John made quick work of getting the tree decorated and dressed. "What do you think?" he asked, placing the gold star on top. "The servants always decorated the tree back in my kingdom so I never got to help. I hope it looks okay."

 

Sherlock stepped up behind John and wrapped his arms around his waist, examining the tree as he rested his chin on John's shoulder. "I think it looks lovely."

 

John smiled and leaned his head against Sherlock's, sighing as Sherlock's hands rubbed over his stomach. "I want this Christmas to be perfect. It will be our only Christmas together, just the two of us, for at least eighteen years. Next year we'll have to start pretending that Santa Claus exists."

 

"You'll have to teach me about the traditions and things for next year... I'm afraid I've deleted quite a bit of it."

 

"Not to worry," John smiled. "I have knowledge enough for the both of us. Christmas is my favorite time of year, although I'm sure you already deduced that."

 

"Yes, I think I've picked up on that," Sherlock chuckled, kissing John's cheek.

 

John turned around in Sherlock's arms and reached up to give him a proper kiss. "I have an early Christmas present for you," he murmured when they broke apart.

 

"You do?" Sherlock asked curiously. "What is it?"

 

John went to their closet and pulled out a small bag. "Here."

 

"Thank you, love," Sherlock said, taking the bag and beginning to open it.

 

A glass orb ornament was inside with a silk ribbon for hanging. "I had the best glassblower in the city make it," John explained. "It's an ornament for our first Christmas together."

 

Sherlock smiled and pressed a gentle kiss to John's lips. "It's lovely, John. Thank you."

 

John grinned and returned the kiss. "Help me hang it on the tree?"

 

"Of course," Sherlock smiled, taking the ornament and carefully placing it on a sturdy tree branch. "There. Perfect."

 

John smiled and wrapped his arms around Sherlock's waist and rested his head against his chest as they gazed at the tree.

 

Sherlock smiled and pressed a kiss to John's forehead, wrapping his arms around John's waist.

 

 

It was Christmas Eve and John was practically bouncing with excitement after the church service the royal family attended. "We should go for a walk tonight," he suggested to Sherlock as they changed out of their formal attire in their bedroom. "Maybe in the gardens."

 

"You'll have to bundle up well," Sherlock said, buttoning up his shirt. "It's going to get much colder tonight."

 

"Don't care," John shook his head as he laid back on the bed. "It'll be worth it to be out on Christmas Eve with all the snow and the stars glittering above. A perfect silent night."

 

"That's a Christmas thing, yes? A silent night?" Sherlock asked, kneeling between John's knees and rubbing his sides. "Tell me what it is again."

 

"We sang the song at the service tonight, remember? It's a religious song about Christmas Eve being peaceful and quiet."

 

"Oh, yes. That one wasn't my favorite," Sherlock shrugged.

 

John chuckled and reached down to kiss his cheek. "No, you seemed very bored the entire time."

 

"I wasn't bored the /entire/ time," Sherlock pouted. "I enjoyed watching you enjoy yourself very much."

 

"That's the only part you enjoyed," John said, giving him a pinch.

 

"Oi," Sherlock said, swatting gently at John's hand. "Is that really a bad thing? At least I enjoyed some part of it."

 

John laughed and grabbed his hand away, latching onto Sherlock's and bringing it up to his lips for a kiss. "Let's go for that walk, shall we?"

 

"Whatever you want, love," Sherlock smiled, getting to his feet and offering John his hand.

 

 

Outside, snow was falling quietly, but not enough to disrupt the couple's walk. "It's incredible out," John sighed, giving Sherlock's hand a squeeze as they walked through the gardens to Sherlock's secret hideaway spot.

 

"It is very nice out here, despite being a bit cold," Sherlock mused.

 

"Don't ruin it," John said, nudging him in the ribs. "It's perfect."

 

"I just said it was nice!" Sherlock said, raising his hands in mock defense.

 

"You also said 'despite being cold'."

 

“Because it is cold.”

 

John rolled his eyes and ignored him. They made it to Sherlock's secret clearing and he helped John to sit down gingerly on the rock.

 

"How are you feeling, love?" Sherlock asked, perching on the edge of the rock next to John.

 

"Perfect," he smiled, linking his hand through Sherlock's.

 

"Good," Sherlock grinned, kissing John's gloved fingers.

 

John rested his head against Sherlock's shoulder and looked up into the sky at the swirling flakes of snow falling down.

 

Sherlock smiled and leaned his head against John's.

 

"What do you imagine it'll be like a year from now?" John asked softly.

 

"I imagine we'll be very busy with taking care of our little one," Sherlock smiled, squeezing John's hand. "And you'll be teaching them all about Christmas."

 

"I can't imagine all the things that you'll want to teach him or her," John chuckled.

 

"Mmmm, it will probably be a lot. But I'll definitely be leaving you Christmas and military strategy to teach them about. You've definitely mastered those topics much better than I have," Sherlock grinned.

 

John snorted and shook his head. "Military strategy? I don't think they'll necessarily need to learn that."

 

"But it's something you're good at and enjoy," Sherlock said, squeezing John's fingers.

 

“It doesn’t mean they will.”

 

"It also might be something that comes in handy for them in the future," Sherlock pointed out.

 

"God, I hope not," John breathed, closing his eyes. "I never want us going to war."

 

"Nor do I," Sherlock agreed. "But in case the worst was to happen, our children should be prepared, shouldn't they?"

 

"I suppose so," he frowned. "But my knowledge is really only if they were military leaders or fighting."

 

“It would still be useful to them.”

 

John sighed, not wanting to bicker, and gave Sherlock's hand a squeeze. "Let's keep walking. I'm getting a bit cold just sitting here."

 

"Alright," Sherlock agreed. "Do you want to go back to the palace, or do you want to keep going?"

 

"We can keep going," he smiled as Sherlock helped him to stand. "I'm not done being out on this Christmas Eve yet."

 

 

They continued their way around the gardens, John pointing out the different Christmas lights and sharing stories of when he was a boy and would stay up as late as he could on Christmas Eve to catch a glimpse of Santa. 

 

"It seems like you have lovely memories of Christmas from your childhood," Sherlock mused.

 

"Do you have any from yours?" John asked as they stopped in front of the thicket where they had cut down their Christmas tree.

 

Sherlock shook his head. "I don't think so. Must have deleted them if I did."

 

“Really?” John frowned. “I’m so sorry.”

 

"It's not a big deal," Sherlock shrugged. "Besides, we'll be able to make new memories together."

 

John gave a soft smile and wrapped his arms around Sherlock's waist. "Yes, we will. So many good memories."

 

"I can't wait," Sherlock grinned, kissing John's temple.

 

 

Back inside, John cajoled Sherlock into letting him read _The Night Before Christmas_ out loud before they went to bed.

 

"Is this another memory from your childhood?" Sherlock asked curiously as they settled in bed. "Reading this book before going to sleep on Christmas Eve?"

 

John set the book on the bedside table and snuggled close to Sherlock. "Yeah, it is. Although I'm sure you deduced that along with many other things today."

 

"I did, yes," Sherlock chuckled, wrapping his arm around John's shoulder and kissing his temple. "I do deduce quite a bit every day though."

 

"Anything in particular you found today?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

 

"Well, I found that Christmas is not nearly as tedious as I thought it was," he chuckled. "Mostly because of you, I suspect."

 

"Good," John grinned, giving him a quick peck. "I'm determined to have you love it."

 

"I'm sure you'll succeed," Sherlock chuckled, nuzzling John's cheek.

 

John laughed and rested his forehead against Sherlock's.

 

"You should get some sleep," Sherlock murmured. "You were on your feet quite a bit."

 

"It's Christmas Eve," he smirked. "I'm not going to be able to sleep all night."

 

"Is that so?" Sherlock asked, raising an eyebrow. "I might have to give you an activity that will make you tired, then."

 

“Good luck!” John laughed.

 

"I don't think I need luck," Sherlock smirked, leaning in and kissing John deeply.

 

John grinned and kissed Sherlock back, wrapping his arm around his husband's neck.

 

Sherlock ran his hands down John's sides lightly before slipping them under John's bum and squeezing playfully.

 

John smirked and nipped at Sherlock's lower lip.

 

"Cheeky," Sherlock grinned before beginning to kiss over John's face and down his neck.

 

"You're gorgeous, John..." Sherlock murmured, kissing at the corner of John's jaw.

 

John smirked and sifted his fingers through Sherlock's curls. "You exaggerate."

 

"I'm not exaggerating at all, love."

 

"Mm, maybe a bit," John corrected.

 

"Not at all," Sherlock repeated, kissing John deeply again.

 

John gave a soft moan and tangled his legs with Sherlock's.

 

Sherlock let his hands wander in towards John's crack and began to tease his entrance.

 

"Sherlock..." John warned. "We're not supposed to open presents until morning."

 

Sherlock pouted. "That seems unfair when I have to sleep right next to it all night, especially when it looks so amazing."

 

John smirked and pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth. "Now you know what it's like to not be able to sleep on Christmas Eve."

 

Sherlock huffed softly and laid back down, taking John's hand and kissing his knuckles. "Now neither of us will be able to sleep."

 

John turned his head and smiled over at him. "Told you it won't be possible. Why don't you tell me about something from your childhood? I've gone on and on all day about mine.”

 

Sherlock thought for a moment and shrugged. "There's really not much to say. I spent the vast majority of my childhood preparing to become king."

 

“Yeah, but what was that like?”

 

"Lonely," Sherlock murmured. "There were always people around, but they never paid more attention to me than they had to."

 

“Tell me about your mother,” John prompted.

 

"My mother was lovely," Sherlock murmured. "I don't remember her much, unfortunately, but she used to sing to me at night when I couldn't sleep."

 

“What happened to her?”

 

Sherlock sighed and closed his eyes, leaning his forehead against John's. "She was ill... breast cancer."

 

John nodded in understanding and squeezed Sherlock's hand. "I'm so sorry, love. How old were you?"

 

"I was six... It was so hard watching her get sicker and sicker..." Sherlock said softly.

 

John swallowed thickly and ran a soothing hand through Sherlock's curls.

 

"She always told me she'd be okay... I believed it right up until she was gone," Sherlock said, his voice breaking a bit and he pressed his face into John's neck.

 

"Shh, love. Please don't cry," John murmured, holding Sherlock close and rubbing his back. "I shouldn't have brought it up. I'm sorry. No one should have to think about things like that during Christmas."

 

"I'm fine," Sherlock said, relaxing a bit as John rubbed his back.

 

John gave a wry smile. "You're obviously not."

 

"It shouldn't make me so emotional... She died years ago," Sherlock mumbled.

 

"It was a traumatic event, love, of course it's still going to affect you. Especially if you didn't grieve properly the first time."

 

"That's very likely the case," Sherlock murmured.

 

John continued to rub his back and pressed a kiss to Sherlock's forehead. "Think no more about it tonight."

 

"I'll certainly try my best," Sherlock sighed, cuddling closer to John.

 

Now that the excitement over Christmas morning had been overshadowed, John continued to rub Sherlock's back as he fell asleep.

 


	9. *Christmas Part 2*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I was putting this chapter together, I noticed that it was a little bit longer than the last and we're still not close to being done with the Christmas story. That means there's going to be a Part 3 for this "vignette." Sadly, you'll have to wait a bit longer for the finish of this one, but that also means there's more for you to read! 
> 
> -broadwaybound

Early the next morning, John awoke with a sudden jolt of excitement. "Sherlock!" he whispered, shaking his husband's shoulder. "Wake up!"

 

Sherlock was a bit groggy, but he woke up right away. "What is it? Are you alright, John?" he asked worriedly.

 

“It’s Christmas!” John grinned.

 

Sherlock stared at John for a second, then lightly smacked John's arm. "Don't do that to me! I thought there was something wrong with you and the baby!"

 

John laughed and reached down to give Sherlock a kiss. "I'm sorry. I'm just so excited that it's Christmas morning. You're going to have to get used to it when the little one jumps on our bed early every Christmas morning."

 

"It's not that I'm not used to it, I'm just tense while you're with child," Sherlock said, nuzzling John's cheek. "Just be patient with me."

 

"Well you should be less tense because the baby and I are fine."

 

"I know. I'm trying my best," Sherlock said, hugging John close. "Just be patient, please."

 

“I am patient with you.”

 

"I know," Sherlock murmured, kissing John's cheek. "And I'm very grateful."

 

John sat up and stretched. "Shall we go downstairs?"

 

"Yes, I think so," Sherlock said, sitting up and swinging his legs over the side of the bed.

 

"Breakfast or opening presents first?" John asked as he got up and tied his robe around himself.

 

"I think breakfast first. I don't want you to get too hungry," Sherlock said.

 

"I think my excitement would tide me over," he smirked.

 

"Still," Sherlock said, shrugging into his own robe. "You and the baby need food more than you need presents."

 

John pouted playfully and wrapped his arms around Sherlock's waist. "But the baby and I want presents."

 

Sherlock chuckled and kissed the tip of John's nose. "Well... I suppose I could give you /one/ gift now..."

 

"Oh?" John grinned. "And what's that?"

 

"Wait here," Sherlock said, slipping out of John's arms. John frowned and moved to sit on the edge of the bed.

 

Sherlock slipped into the closet and pulled out a small wrapped box before returning to sit next to John on the bed. "Here. I wanted to give this to you in private anyway... It's for you and the baby."

 

"What is it?" he asked, taking the box and gingerly removing the wrapping paper.

 

"You have to open it, love," Sherlock chuckled.

 

John shot him a sideways glance as he set the wrapping paper aside and carefully lifted the lid off the box.

 

Sherlock held his breath, watching intently as John lifted out the simple white gold chain. It was attached to two interlocked circlets of gold, with another smaller circlet twined with both of them. "That one's yours... I hope it's not to feminine for you."

 

"It's beautiful," John smiled. "And you have one as well?"

 

Sherlock nodded. "Yes, and there's one for the baby there as well."

 

John leaned over and placed a gentle kiss to Sherlock's lips. "I love it. And you said you couldn't be sentimental." He unclasped the necklace and held it up. "Help me put it on?"

 

Sherlock cupped John's cheek and kissed him back, smiling as they parted and he took the necklace. "I think I might be learning a bit," he said, fastening the chain around John's neck and kissing his cheek.

 

John grinned and gave Sherlock's hand a squeeze. "And where is yours?"

 

"In my dresser," Sherlock said, going to fetch it.

 

"There. Now we're a matching pair," John smiled.

 

"We are indeed," Sherlock grinned, kissing John gently.

 

Downstairs, the cooks had set up a grand breakfast for the pair of them and two extra places were set for Sherlock's father and for his brother, Mycroft; it was still unclear whether either of them would be joining Sherlock and John. "This looks fantastic!" John grinned, his mouth watering. "I can't wait to see what they have for dinner tonight."

 

"I'm sure it will be delicious, whatever it is," Sherlock said, smiling as he watched John. He pulled out John's chair for him and made sure he was settled before taking his own seat and sliding it a bit closer to John's.

 

John piled his plate high with pancakes and bacon and eggs, grabbing a few minced pies as well. "God I love the cooking here," he moaned around a mouthful of bacon.

 

Sherlock chuckled fondly as he helped himself to bacon and eggs. "I can see that. I'm glad that you're enjoying yourself, love."

 

John smiled happily and munched on his bacon.

 

"So besides opening gifts, is there anything else you'd like to do today?" Sherlock asked as he started on his own breakfast.

 

"Spend time with you," he smiled.

 

Sherlock hummed. "I can most definitely do that for you, love."

 

“Good,” John grinned and gave his hand a squeeze.

 

Sherlock grinned back and brought John's hand to his mouth to kiss his knuckles.

 

When they both had finished, John practically dragged Sherlock along behind him in his excitement to get to the Christmas tree. They both had a few small gifts under the tree in their room, but there were family gifts underneath the big tree in the great hall.

 

Sherlock chuckled as John eagerly lead him towards the great hall, enjoying how happy the holiday made his mate. "The gifts aren't going to disappear, love," he teased playfully.

 

John threw him a look. "Don't ruin my excitement."

 

"I'm not trying to," Sherlock said, wrapping his arm around John's waist. "It's infectious; I love it."

 

"Sherlock!" John half laughed and half whined as his mate prevented him from getting into the next room with his embrace. "Your teasing is unbearable!"

 

Sherlock chuckled and began pressing kisses over John's face. "But you love me even when I'm unbearable."

 

John turned and gave him a quick peck before pulling him along again.

 

When they reached the great hall they practically tumbled into the room in a fit of laughter as they traded kisses back and forth, only for Sherlock to pull up short when he saw his father. "Oh. Hello, Father."

 

John froze and quickly turned in Sherlock's arms, his eyes immediately falling to the floor in submission.

 

"I see you two are having a good time," the king said, raising an eyebrow in an almost disapproving manner.

 

Sherlock frowned slightly. "I don't see why that's a problem."

 

"Are we not supposed to be in here?" John whispered.

 

"No, we're fine, love," Sherlock said, pointedly leading John to one of armchairs that had been placed near the tree and helping him to sit. "I didn't know you were joining us while we opened gifts, Father."

 

"There are a few select gifts I have for the two of you," he replied. "I wanted to be here to give them to you."

 

"I see," Sherlock said, pushing one of the other chairs over to John's and making sure it squeaked loudly on the tile. John frowned at Sherlock's passive aggressive manner and reached for his hand.

 

Sherlock squeezed John's hand. "Would you like to start, then, father?"

 

The man nodded and picked up a medium sized box, handing it to Sherlock. "This is yours."

 

"Thank you, Father," Sherlock said, taking the box and beginning to unwrap it.

 

Inside was the ceremonial robe their future child would wear when he or she was presented to the country. At face value it seemed to be a sentimental gift, but Sherlock knew the true intent was to remind him of his duty to the country and the future role his son or daughter would play.

 

Sherlock touched the robe and gave his father a tight smile. "Thank you, Father. It's a good thing to have handy now that John is so far along."

 

"Thank you," John gave a tight-lipped smile.

 

The king inclined his head. "You're welcome. Be sure to keep it safe, now. It has been in the family for generations."

 

"Does this mean you wore it as a baby?" John smirked at Sherlock while the king went to get the next present.

 

"I did, yes," Sherlock said, setting the box aside.

 

"Is there a picture?" John grinned.

 

Sherlock rolled his eyes playfully. "I'm sure there's one somewhere."

 

"I have to see it," John laughed.

 

"I'm sure Mycroft will have it in our bedroom before we've finished opening gifts," Sherlock chuckled.

 

John grinned and pressed a kiss to Sherlock's cheek as the king brought over John's gift.

 

"Here you are, John," the king said, handing the package to John.

 

"Thank you," John said meekly, taking the package and beginning to unwrap it.

 

Inside the box was a wrist cuff sized exactly for John. It was engraved with the date of their marriage and a small circle was stamped on the inside. "The circle represents the child you're carrying," he explained. "A new circle will be added for each child you bear."

 

Sherlock looked down at the cuff and pressed his lips together tightly before he looked away.

 

"Oh... Thank you," John replied.

 

"I expect you to wear it at all times," the king said. "Especially if you leave the palace grounds."

 

John swallowed hard and nodded, the cuff bearing a new and heavy weight in his hand.

 

"I really don't think that's necessary, Father," Sherlock said tightly.

 

The King raised his eyebrows. "It's tradition."

 

"It's a horribly outdated tradition. John is his own person; he doesn't belong to me, and he certainly doesn't belong to the family." Sherlock ground out.

 

"But he does. He is an Omega and shall be treated as such."

 

"Omegas are not property, Father. They're people."

 

"You would not wish to defy me," he said icily. "Especially on Christmas morning."

 

"What would you do?" Sherlock asked.

 

"For one, I could take John away from you," he threatened, sending a malicious glance in the Omega's direction.

 

Sherlock snorted, but he wrapped a protective arm around John's shoulders anyway. "Good luck with that, Father."

 

"You think I'm kidding?" he raised his eyebrows. "The purpose of an Omega is to give Alphas children. I can easily have him sent away to have the child and have him stay away except for planned encounters such as important royal events."

 

"And risk sending me into a depression so dark that I decide to pick up my drug habit again?" Sherlock challenged.

 

John's brow furrowed and he cast a glance at Sherlock.

 

The King sighed deeply and rubbed a hand over his face. "The cuff shall be worn whenever he is outside of the palace."

 

Sherlock pressed his lips together and looked away from his father.

 

"Thank you for the gifts," John said quietly.

 

"I'll see you two at dinner," the King said stiffly and left the Hall.

 

Sherlock sighed and let himself relax, sagging back against his chair. "Are you alright, love?"

 

"I'm fine," John nodded, placing the cuff and robe aside and taking Sherlock's hand in his own. "But you're not. Why did you do that?"

 

Sherlock shrugged and played with John's fingers. "Because it needed to be said. You're not property, love, and I hate when he treats you like that."

 

"I know, but I don't think you should worry about changing his mind at such great risks. You need to pick your battles carefully."

 

"I knew he wouldn't do anything," Sherlock said, shrugging again. "He doesn't want to have to deal with the repercussions that would come with me getting hooked on cocaine again."

 

John swallowed hard and shifted in his chair, taking his hand out of Sherlock's. "You never told me you had a drug problem," he said quietly, staring over at the lights on the Christmas tree.

 

Sherlock closed his eyes tightly as John took his hand away.  "I'm sorry, love," he murmured, opening his eyes and looking at John, hoping that he would meet his eyes. "I didn't want you to have that weight on your shoulders."

 

"We're supposed to be truthful with each other, Sherlock," he said, continuing to stare at the tree. "For better or worse."

 

"I wasn't _untruthful_ ," Sherlock said softly. "I just didn't tell you all the information, but I promise I'll tell you everything now."

 

John finally turned his head around and met Sherlock's gaze. "Okay, then talk."

 

"Where do you want me to start?" Sherlock asked softly.

 

“At the beginning.”

 

Sherlock sighed and began playing with his fingers. "There were so many reasons why it seemed like a good idea at the time... Mycroft had just abdicated, so I suddenly had so much more pressure on me, so much weight on my shoulders, and my mind just wouldn't /shut up/..."

 

"And why did you stop?" John asked curiously.

 

"It turns out that cocaine dealers have very loose lips, especially when there's a lot of money to motivate them," Sherlock sighed.

 

“What happened then?”

 

"Once the public found out about my addiction people began calling for me to abdicate as well. I almost did, too, but there would be no one else to take my place. Plus, Mycroft offered me the chance to do some consultation on crimes if I got clean... you know how much I love those cases. That was the main reason, really," Sherlock explained.

 

John pressed his lips into a thin line as he listened and took Sherlock's hand again. "What did your father do?"

 

"He threatened to disinherit me," Sherlock snorted, holding John's hand tightly. "Like that was any motivation for me. He did send me to the best rehab facility in the country, though."

 

"And that helped?" he asked. "How long were you there?"

 

"Six months. It was a living hell, but I got through it," Sherlock said, brushing his thumb over the back of John's hand. "I promise you, John, I'm never going back to the drugs. I've found something much healthier to take their place."

 

John gave a soft smile and leaned up to give Sherlock a tender kiss. "How long ago was this?"

 

Sherlock smiled softly and rested his forehead against John's. "About two years ago now."

 

John did the math. "So just a little before we were married."

 

"I left rehab about a year before our wedding," Sherlock nodded.

 

"Did you threaten your father about the drugs when you were told he was looking for an Omega to marry you to?"

 

Sherlock sighed. "No, I didn't see the point. I knew it had to happen at some point."

 

"You didn't fight this?" John pulled back. "Every action you showed on our wedding night says otherwise."

 

"Just because I didn't fight doesn't mean I was happy about it. And Father would have made me bond even if I _had_ gone back to the drugs."

 

John sighed with a nod and took Sherlock's hand as he struggled to stand up. "Did you get any choice in picking your future mate?"

 

"I'm sure I would have if I had been interested. Honestly, I'm glad I didn't because I've got you," Sherlock said, standing and putting a steadying hand on John's hip.

 

"I still don't completely understand why your father chose me," he said as they walked over to the tree and collected the rest of their presents to open upstairs in their room. "Was it purely political?"

 

"I'm sure it was," Sherlock shrugged. "I hardly paid attention to the selection process more than I was forced to."

 

"And what did you think of me when I was brought up?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

 

"At first glance you were boring," Sherlock said truthfully.

 

"Of course I was," John snorted, shifting the two boxes in his arms.

 

Sherlock took the boxes and leaned down to kiss John gently. "But now... now you're simply fascinating, John."

 

John grinned into the kiss and wrapped his arms around Sherlock's neck. "I love you so much," he breathed.

 

"I love you, too," Sherlock grinned, kissing John again.

 

"Let's open these presents, shall we?" John asked, giving Sherlock a last peck and picking up the boxes again.

 

“Let's, Sherlock agreed, taking the gifts and leading them back to their room.

 

"Which one should we open first?" John asked as he sat down on their bed and Sherlock went to grab the small pile of presents in front of their tree.

 

"Which ever one you want, love," Sherlock smiled.

 

John eyed the presents carefully before choosing the biggest one. "Let's open this one," he grinned.

 

Sherlock chuckled fondly and placed the large gift in front of John. "You're just like a child, love. It's adorable."

 

"Get used to it," John said, carefully taking off the wrapping paper. "You'll have a real one to deal with next Christmas."

 

"I can't wait," Sherlock smiled, wrapping an arm around John's shoulders as he watched him unwrap the gift.

 

Inside the box was a large, crocheted purple baby blanket. "Look how beautiful it is," John marveled, showing the blanket to Sherlock. "Who gave it to us?"

 

"It's lovely," Sherlock agreed, smiling as he looked through the remnants of the wrapping paper. "It's from Mrs. Hudson. She must have made it herself."

 

"Mrs. Hudson?" John frowned.

 

"Yes. She was one of my nannies when I was small, the only one who I really liked," Sherlock said.

 

"This is really thoughtful of her," John smiled. "Did you send her something?"

 

Sherlock nodded. "I sent her and her sister to Italy for a holiday."

 

"That was kind of you," John praised.

 

"They enjoyed it," Sherlock shrugged. "I try to do things like that for Mrs. Hudson every once and a while."

 

John reached up and cupped Sherlock's cheek, rubbing his thumb against it. "See? You're not a monster like everyone says."

 

Sherlock smiled and leaned into John's touch. "I'm glad you think so, love."

 

John pressed a kiss to Sherlock's lips and returned to the presents.

 

"Is it my turn, then?" Sherlock asked after kissing John back.

 

"I believe it is," he nodded.

 

"Let's see... I think I'll go with this one," Sherlock said, picking up a neatly wrapped square package.

 

"It's from Mycroft," John noted, turning over the tag.

 

"Lovely," Sherlock said, trying not to wrinkle his nose too much as he began unwrapping the box.

 

"Stop it," John chided.

 

"What? Mycroft isn't known for his gift giving abilities," Sherlock shrugged.

 

"But it's Christmas and it's customary to give gifts."

 

"That doesn't mean it will be something we're likely to actually need."

 

John poked him in the ribs. "Well, open it and see."

 

"Fine," Sherlock said, lifting the lid off of the box.

 

Inside was a small, archaic key tied to a ribbon accompanied by a small piece of paper. "What is it?" John asked.

 

Sherlock's brow furrowed. "I don't know."

 

"John, you will find a box above your dresser," John read from the note. "Insert the key to unlock it."

 

"I'll get it for you, love," Sherlock said, standing up before John had the chance to protest.

 

"Thanks," John rolled his eyes.

 

"Is that sarcasm I here?" Sherlock asked as he fetched the box.

 

"Maybe," John whirled a brow, taking the box from him.  


Sherlock grinned and wrapped his arm around John's shoulders. "I like it."

 

John smirked and put the key in the box, unlocking it. Inside were a bunch of photos of Sherlock has a baby. John grinned from ear to ear as he picked one up of Sherlock in the ceremonial baby robes.

 

Sherlock groaned softly and rested his forehead on John's shoulder. "I should have known," he mumbled.

 

"This is brilliant!" John laughed.

 

Sherlock glanced at the photos and wrinkled his nose. "God, I look like a marshmallow."

 

"You look adorable," John corrected. "I hope our baby is as cute as you were, and has your mop of curls."

 

"We'll just have to see," Sherlock murmured. "But I know we'll love them no matter what they look like."

 

John smiled as Sherlock rubbed his stomach and reached up to give him a kiss. "I love you," he murmured before turning back to the pictures.

 

"I love you, too," Sherlock smiled, nuzzling John's cheek as he continued to look through the photos.

 

"Is this your mum?" John asked as he came upon a photo of Sherlock and a young woman sitting with him in the gardens.

 

Sherlock looked at the photo and smiled softly. "Yes, that's her. I haven't looked at any pictures of her in ages... I think I almost forgot how beautiful she was."

 

"She's gorgeous," John nodded.

 

"She was incredibly kind, too," Sherlock smiled. "She would have loved you."

 

"I would have loved to meet her."

 

"I wish you could have," Sherlock murmured.

 

John picked up the next picture and tilted his head. "Family portrait?"

 

"Yes. I don't think Mycroft or I were very enthused about that day," Sherlock chuckled.

 

John grinned and put the picture back. "And when will be having our family portrait done?"

 

"We'll probably have one once the baby is a few months old," Sherlock shrugged. "I don't know the exact date though."

 

"It'll be nice to have a picture of the three of us."

 

"It will be," Sherlock smiled, kissing John's cheek.

 

John smiled and turned his head to give him a deep, proper kiss. Sherlock grinned against John's lips and cupped his cheek as they kissed.

 

"Let's finish off this pile of presents, shall we?" John suggested.

 

“Let’s,” Sherlock grinned.

 

John pulled forward the last present, a small rectangular shaped box. "To Sherlock, Love, Mum," John read off, turning his head to look at Sherlock. "It's for you."

 

Sherlock's brow furrowed as he took the box. "From my mum? That doesn't make sense..."

 

John watched silently as Sherlock opened the package. Inside was a small music box and a pair of knit booties as well as a letter.

 

"Oh," Sherlock said softly, taking the little booties out of the box and holding them carefully, as if they might break if he moved too quickly.

 

"What is it?" John asked curiously.

 

"Baby things," Sherlock said, passing the booties to John to look at.

 

John nodded and gently took the booties into his hands. "There's a letter in there too."

 

"Yes. Let me see..." Sherlock said, lifting the letter out of the box and unfolding it.

 

"My dear, Sherlock," it read... "By the time you receive this letter I will be long gone and a distant memory in your mind--you may have forgotten me entirely as you were so young--but I hope it finds you in a much happier place. I have requested that you receive these items when it's near the birth of your first child. I do hope you are getting along with your future mate, no matter what you turn out to be. The music box was given to me by my mother and her mother before and so on, and I would play it for you every night as you fell asleep. By the time you were three you insisted you were too old for it. I now give it to you as a gift for your unborn child. The booties I made myself. I needed something to do while I was stuck on bed rest and too weak to walk about so I made these booties for you to give to your future child. I made a pair for Mycroft as well. I wish you all the happiness and love in the world and I hope this child will bring as much joy into your life as Mycroft and you brought in to mine. I love you so much with all my heart.

 

Love, Mum"

 

Sherlock closed his eyes as he felt tears building, bowing his head over the letter.

 

John carefully removed the letter from Sherlock's hands so his tears wouldn't stain it. "Is everything alright?" he asked, putting the booties back in the box and taking Sherlock into his arms.

 

Sherlock nodded and took a deep breath. "I'm fine. I just wasn't expecting this is all."

 

John rubbed Sherlock's back and pressed a kiss to his neck. "It's okay, love. It's perfectly fine to feel like this."

 

Sherlock leaned in to John's touch. "I know... I just don't feel like this often enough to know how to handle it well."

 

"I'm right here," he assured Sherlock. "I can help."

 

"I don't even know where to start..." Sherlock said, using the back of his hand to wipe away a tear.

 

“You don't have to. Whatever you want to talk about I'll be here to listen to, and I'm still here even if you don't want to talk about anything."

 

Sherlock nodded silently, lifting the music box out of the package and twisting the knob, starting up the music. A soft, enchanting lullaby began to play as Sherlock set the box down between them.

 

"It's beautiful," John murmured.

 

"I remember this..." Sherlock said softly, a sad smile on his lips. "I haven't heard it in years and years..."

 

John rubbed Sherlock's back with one hand and laid his head on his shoulder as they listened quietly. Sherlock wrapped an arm around John's shoulders and pressed a kiss to the top of his head.

 

"I love you," John whispered.

 

"I love you, too, John," Sherlock murmured. "So much..."

 

John picked up the music box as it wound down and looked at it carefully. "We'll have to put this in the nursery."

 

"Definitely. It's a beautiful song, with a lot of meaning behind it. It might be one of the only ways they'll ever know their grandmother," Sherlock murmured, resting a hand on John's round belly.

 

John gave a soft smile and cupped Sherlock's cheek. "You can tell them lots of stories from when you were little."

 

"I'll certainly try my best... not sure how well I'll do remembering, though," Sherlock sighed.

 

"With that big brain of yours?" John smiled. "I'm sure you catalogued every moment."

 

"I'm glad you think so highly of me, but I'm afraid that my methods of memory keeping as a child weren't as foolproof as they are now. I'm afraid I may have forgotten things... important things about my mother," Sherlock said softly.

 

"It's okay. You don't have to remember everything," John assured him, rubbing his arm.

 

"What would I do without you, love?" Sherlock asked, brushing his lips over John's forehead.

 

"Suffer miserably," he joked.

 

Sherlock snorted. "Something like that, I'm sure."

 

John laughed and pressed a kiss to his cheek. Sherlock squeezed John's shoulders and kissed his forehead again.

 

"What should we do now that all of our gifts are open? We have all day to do whatever you'd like."

 

"Mm, I don't know," John hummed. "Do you have any ideas?"

 

"Honestly, I'd be happy just cuddling with you," Sherlock said. "I never have enough time to cuddle with you as much as I'd like."

 

"Then let's do that, shall we?" John nodded. He moved the gifts out of the way and scooted up to the head of the bed, patting the place next to him for Sherlock.

 

Sherlock grinned and settled next to John, wrapping his arms around his shoulders and pulling up the covers over their legs.

 

“I love you,” John sighed.

 

“I love you, too," Sherlock murmured, kissing John's forehead.


	10. *Christmas Part 3*

Sherlock and John spent the day cuddling in bed, watching Christmas movies, drinking hot chocolate, and walking around the palace grounds. By the time dinner came around Sherlock was absolutely sullen. "Don't look like that," John frowned as he adjusted his jumper in the mirror. "It's just Christmas dinner."

 

"Yes, but it's Christmas dinner with my father and my brother. You saw what my father was like this morning," Sherlock complained.

 

John turned around and rubbed Sherlock's arms. "Just don't cause any trouble, okay?"

 

"I don't cause the trouble. They do," Sherlock pouted.

 

"Not from their point of view," John sighed, adjusting Sherlock's collar.

 

"I'll try my best, love," Sherlock murmured.

 

John smiled and reached up to give him a quick kiss. "That's all I ask."

 

Sherlock kissed him back and ran his hands down John's arms. "Are you ready, then?"

 

"I am," he nodded. "I'm ready for that roasted ham."

 

Sherlock chuckled and took John's hand. "Let's not keep you waiting, then."

 

They were the first to make it downstairs and arrived just as the servants were finishing up setting the table. Sherlock frowned as he took in the seating arrangement. "I hate when they make us sit across from each other instead of next to each other."

 

"We'll get through it," John sighed and gave Sherlock's hand a squeeze. "Dinner won't last more than an hour."

 

"The longest hour of the year," Sherlock grumbled, squeezing John's hand in return before heading around the table to his seat.

 

John sat down and poured himself and Sherlock each a glass of water as the servants began putting out food and they waited for Mycroft and Sherlock's father.

 

"Thank you, love," Sherlock said running his finger around the base of his water glass.

 

Mycroft came in first and sat down in his seat next to John. "Sherlock, John," he nodded.

 

"Hello, brother," Sherlock said stiffly.

 

"Are you having a good Christmas?" John asked, trying to diffuse the tension.

 

“It wasn't as horrid as it could have been," Mycroft said.

 

"Well, that's good," John nodded, taking a sip of his water.

 

"Yes. Quite glad there wasn't a breakout of high security prisoners like there was last year," Sherlock said.

 

"Yes, that was a welcome relief," Mycroft smiled snidely at his brother.

 

"I'm sure it was. I'm also sure that John and I had a much more pleasurable day then you did," Sherlock said.

 

"Oh?" Mycroft raised his eyebrows. "Well, I'm sure John enjoyed those pictures of you."

 

"He did. We looked through them together, in fact."

 

"Yes, I added a few more photos in there for you."

 

"I saw them," Sherlock said simply. He didn't want to rise to Mycroft's bait like a child and disappoint John.

 

Mycroft smirked and poured himself a glass of water while Sherlock narrowed his eyes at his brother for a moment, until their father walked into the room.

 

They all stood, John taking just a moment longer to do so because of his condition, and bowed their heads in respect. "Father," Mycroft said.

 

"Father," Sherlock said stiffly.

 

"Sherlock. Mycroft. John," the king said, acknowledging them each in turn and allowing them to sit down. They all waited for the king to be seated before they each followed suit.

 

"John and I wanted to thank you again for your gifts, Father," Sherlock said as their food was served.

 

"You're welcome," he nodded. "I expect to see you wearing it, John, the next time you're outside."

 

"I'm sure we'll remember," Sherlock said stiffly.

 

"Did you have a good Christmas, father?" Mycroft asked.

 

"It was pleasant enough, not taking into account the argument I had with your brother this morning," the king said, shooting Sherlock a look.

 

"Ah, yes," Mycroft smiled. "I'm sure Sherlock would have done something to cause trouble.”

 

"I didn't cause trouble," Sherlock glared. "I simply stated an opinion that Father disagreed with."

 

"Of course you did. And knowing you, it was about John."

 

"And what if it was? I fail to see why you and Father view me defending my mate as a bad thing," Sherlock said, his hand itching to hold John's.

 

"Because your relationship with John almost borders on the unhealthy. You are first and foremost the heir to the throne," his father frowned.

 

"I can be a good mate as well as being the heir to the throne. Now tell me, Father, what about my relationship with John could in any way be called unhealthy?" Sherlock asked tightly.

 

"What Alpha cares for his mate that closely? John's duty is to you, and not you unto him."

 

"There's nothing stopping us from being equally devoted to each other."

 

"Society," his father stated bluntly. "You are an example to the country and being this liberal will cause them to turn on you."

 

Sherlock barely managed to suppress a snort and pressed his lips together.

 

"You think I'm joking?" the king practically yelled. "My offer still stands about sending John away and I can personally assure you there will be no way for you to touch so much as a paracetamol, much less cocaine."

 

"Father, did you not feel even a hint of emotion towards Mummy?" Sherlock asked, determined not to rise to his father's bait.

 

The king's face was blank as he responded. "That is none of your concern. She was a means to an end."

 

"I think you did. You were bonded to her, you had to have felt _some_ sort of connection," Sherlock insisted.

 

"This is not a suitable topic for the dinner table, Sherlock."

 

"I am not a child, Father," Sherlock said, narrowing his eyes slightly. "Please don't speak to me like I am one."

 

"I will as long as you continue acting like one," he spat.

 

"I was unaware that showing the ability to care was childish. I'll do my best to keep it to myself in the future."

 

John stood up abruptly and gave a hurried "Pardon me" before fleeing from the room.

 

Sherlock glared at his father openly. "See what you've done? You've upset him," he seethed, standing up to follow after John.

 

"Caring is not an advantage!" Mycroft called after him as he rushed out.

 

Sherlock hurried after John, finding him standing in the entrance hall by the Christmas tree. "John? Are you alright, love?" he asked softly.

 

John was holding his stomach and staring at the tree. "No," he shook his head.

 

Sherlock wrapped his arms around him and pressed a kiss to his hair. "What is it?"

 

"I told you today was not the day to challenge him," he frowned. "And all of your fighting not only upset me, but it made me so anxious that the baby is kicking and moving around like crazy."

 

Sherlock deflated a bit when he realized that it was his fault that John was distressed. "I'm sorry, love," he murmured, rubbing over John's belly. "I didn't mean to make you so anxious..."

 

John nodded quietly and rested his forehead against Sherlock's shoulder. "It's Christmas..." he sighed, barely above a whisper.

 

"It is," Sherlock murmured. "I'm sorry I made a mess of it."

 

"You're not the only one to blame," he sighed.

 

"I still could have tried harder to keep my mouth shut," Sherlock sighed.

 

"Live and learn," John mumbled, closing his eyes against Sherlock's shirt.

 

"What can I do to make it better?" Sherlock asked, rubbing John's back.

 

"I don't want to go back in there," he answered right away. "But I do want my Christmas dinner."

 

"I can have some food sent up with you, but I don't think I can come up," Sherlock murmured.

 

John nodded in understanding and wrapped his arms around Sherlock's middle. "Are you going to be punished? Are _we_ going to be punished?"

 

"If anyone gets punished it will be me. I'll make sure of it," Sherlock told him.

 

John cupped Sherlock's cheek and gave him a sad smile before pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. "I'll see you when you come upstairs."

 

"I'll be up as soon as I can," Sherlock replied, kissing John's lips.

 

John watched him go before heading upstairs. In their room, John was practically asleep when Sherlock entered, carrying three plates of food.

 

"John?" Sherlock asked softly, moving to sit on the edge of their bed. "Are you still hungry, love, or do you want to sleep some more?"

 

John shook his head awake and blinked his eyes open. "Sorry, must have dozed off," he yawned. The smell of food immediately piqued John's attention and he grinned. "I'm definitely still hungry."

 

Sherlock smiled and offered a hand to John to help him sit up. "Alright. You know, you're lucky that you missed the rest of dinner. Everything just went downhill from when you left."

 

"What happened?" John asked as he picked up his cutlery and started cutting a piece of honey-glazed ham.

 

"Father spent the rest of the meal berating me about you, and Mycroft agreed with him on almost every topic," Sherlock sighed.

 

"Of course," he did, John rolled his eyes as he chewed his bite of ham. "Like what?"

 

"The brief list is that you're influencing me to become a liberal nutter that will drive the country into the ground, I should cut all contact with you except for your heats, and then more about how I'll never be able to run the country properly if I allow you to control me."

 

"I'm doing none of that!" John frowned, putting his fork and knife down and turning to face Sherlock. "Where the hell are they getting those assumptions?"

 

"Their bigoted views on life," Sherlock said bitterly.

 

John looked down at his food and closed his eyes, biting back the tears that had sprung up in them.

 

"John?" Sherlock asked, reaching for John's hand. "What's wrong, love?"

 

"I... I was so scared of my life here and I knew I would hate it, but then you turned out to be so perfect and loving. Every second we've been together has been absolute bliss. I never expected it to get this bad again. I feel like we'll never be happy."

 

"Oh John," Sherlock murmured, gathering his mate into his arms and kissing his forehead. "I'm so sorry that my family makes you feel this way... I promise, I'll do everything I can to make it better."

 

"I just want us to be happy," he mumbled, a few tears slipping from his eyes.

 

"I've never been happier than when I'm with you, love," Sherlock said softly. "My father is an idiot, and I'll do anything I can to make sure you have as little contact as possible with him."

 

John nodded his head and hugged Sherlock tightly.

 

"I never wanted to become king, love... but if I can use my position to make things better for you and other omegas, I'll do everything I can," Sherlock said, rubbing John's back.

 

John held onto him a moment longer before pulling back and wiping at his eyes. He felt as though all his tears had been spent and the hunger in his stomach returned. "I know you will," John said softly. "You'll be a wonderful ruler."

 

“I hope I live up to your expectations, then," Sherlock said.

 

John gave a small laugh and smiled as he picked up his fork again.

 

"What's funny?" Sherlock asked, decidedly not mentioning John's mood swings.

 

"You are," he smiled. "You always live up to my expectations. You often surpass them."

 

Sherlock gave a small smile and kissed John's forehead.

 

John returned the smile and returned to his meal. "Did you eat anything at dinner?"

 

"I did," Sherlock nodded. "Not a lot, but I figured you wouldn't mind if I shared with you."

 

"Not at all. Have as much as you like," John shook his head and moved the plate of sides closer to Sherlock.

 

Sherlock chuckled and stole a bite of potatoes. "I think you're aiming to fatten me up," he teased.

 

"Absolutely," John grinned. "That way I won't feel like the only one as big as a barge."

 

"You're not as big as a barge," Sherlock assured him. "You're gorgeous."

 

John rolled his eyes and poked Sherlock in the side. "Says the one as skinny as a rail."

 

"Maybe, but I'm not carrying our child," Sherlock pointed out.

 

John rolled his eyes again and picked up his fork. "Whatever you say..."

 

"I do say," Sherlock said, nuzzling John's cheek.

 

John giggled and put his fork down. "Sherlock, you're making it awfully hard for me to eat."

 

"Sorry... you're just so tempting," Sherlock grinned.

 

"Even with this big belly?" John raised an eyebrow.

 

"Your belly is gorgeous, too. It appeals to my Alpha instincts to see you so round and full with our child," Sherlock said.

 

John shook his head with a smile and reached over to press a kiss to Sherlock's lips. "Happy Christmas, love," he smiled. "I'm so glad I got to spend it with you."

 

"Happy Christmas, John," Sherlock murmured, resting his forehead against John's.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well that's the end of the Christmas story! We hope you liked the finish. Back to the normal storyline soon. Wholocked is editing the next chapter so it's up to her when it comes out. We hope you enjoyed our little break (even though we're posting it way later than expected) and please let us know what you thought!
> 
> -broadwaybound


	11. Crawling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay! Here's chapter 9 and chapter 10 should be up shortly.
> 
> -broadwaybound

Months had passed since Hamish was born and he was growing quickly. Hamish was much smarter than the average infant due to Sherlock’s DNA. He was making leaps and bounds in development when John was in the nursery playing with him on the floor. "Oh my god..." he breathed as Hamish began scooting across the floor on his tummy. John quickly stood and flagged down a passing servant. "Go get Sherlock. Quickly!" 

 

Sherlock groaned and rubbed his temples, forcing himself to stay focused on the paperwork in front of him. His father had been piling these mundane tasks on him as of late and he hated it. He'd much rather be experimenting in the little lab he had built for himself, or better yet spending time with John and Hamish.

 

"Your majesty!" the servant burst into the room. "Pardon the intrusion. His majesty requests your presence in the nursery. He was quite adamant."

 

Sherlock leapt up instantly. "Has something happened? Are they in trouble?"

 

"No, sir," the servant shook his head. "All his majesty told me was to fetch you."

 

"Good. You're dismissed, return to your regular tasks," Sherlock said, waving the servant away and hurrying past him and out of the room. He wracked his mind to try and figure out what could possibly be happening in the nursery as he ran as fast as he could.

 

"Sherlock!" John grinned as his husband entered the nursery. "You have to see this."

 

"What is it?" Sherlock asked, intensely relieved that nothing seemed to be wrong.

 

"Hamish is crawling for the first time," he grinned, letting go of Hamish as he tried to squirm forward.

 

"That's amazing," Sherlock breathed, dropping to his knees a short distance away. "Come on, Hamish. Come to Papa."

 

Hamish's little brow was furrowed in concentration as he hesitantly crawled forward. His face fell into a grin and he giggled as he moved a bit further towards Sherlock.

 

Sherlock lifted Hamish up happily when he reached him and pressed a kiss to his cheek. "You did it, Hamish! You're such a big boy!"

 

John grinned and walked over to the pair of them. "You did it, Hamish! You crawled for the first time! We're so proud of you!" John pressed a kiss to his forehead and Hamish giggled and clapped his tiny hands together at his parents' praise.

 

Sherlock nuzzled Hamish's cheek and held him close, reaching up to tickle under his chin. "He's growing up so fast..."

 

"He is," John nodded. "And soon he'll be talking and running about the palace. We won't be able to control him then. Will we, Hamish?" John tickled the back of the boy's knee and Hamish giggled, squirming in Sherlock's arms.

 

"No, we won't. He'll be a little trouble maker," Sherlock grinned. "Running about the kitchens trying to steal sweets..."

 

"And you know the cooks will give them to him," he laughed.

 

"Only to a point. He'll not over eat," Sherlock said, stroking Hamish's cheek. "One or two sweets a day."

 

John chuckled and pressed a kiss to the boy's cheek as he yawned. "Uh oh. Looks like it's somebody's nap time."

 

"He's had a big day already, learning how to crawl. I'm not surprised," Sherlock chuckled. "Do you want me to put him down?"

 

"I can do it," John shook his head, taking Hamish from Sherlock. "Do you still have things to attend to?"

 

"Incredibly boring things. I'd rather stay with you..." Sherlock said, kissing John's forehead.

 

John settled Hamish in the cot and turned to wrap his arms around Sherlock's neck. "Can the boring things wait?"

 

"I'll make them wait," Sherlock said, wrapping his arms around John's waist.

 

"Good," he grinned and stood on his tiptoes to press a kiss to Sherlock's lips.

 

"I think we should take this elsewhere... there's an innocent child present," Sherlock murmured against John's lips.

 

John smirked and nodded silently, letting Sherlock lead him out of the nursery.

 

Sherlock took his hand and lead him down the hallway to their bedroom, pausing to kiss him against the wall. John let out a surprised "Oh" at the sudden attack and answered with equal fervor.

 

"Can't keep my hands off of you," Sherlock mumbled between kisses.

 

John smirked and let his hand tangle with the curls at the nape of Sherlock's neck.

 

"Think next heat I want to put another baby in you..." Sherlock said, kissing down John's neck.

 

"Hamish isn't even a year old," John warned.

 

"I know. Do you want to wait a bit?" Sherlock asked softly, pulling back a bit and resting his forehead against John’s.

 

"Just a bit," John nodded. "I don't need to be taking care of two babies at once. But I would like another child." He reached up and pressed a soft kiss to Sherlock's lips. "Hey, you know what tomorrow is, don't you?"

 

"Yes," Sherlock grinned, kissing John's lips. "Our anniversary. I can't wait."

 

"And what do we have planned?" he raised a questioning eyebrow.

 

"A nanny for Hamish... a nice private dinner..." Sherlock grinned.

 

"Mm, and afterwards?"

 

"Lots and lots of alone time," Sherlock answered cheekily.

 

John rolled his eyes and gave Sherlock's shoulder a gentle shove. "You are impossible."

 

"Don't you want that too?" Sherlock grinned.

 

"Of course I do," he murmured with a smile.

 

"Then I believe I'm not impossible at all."

 

John rolled his eyes and pressed a kiss to the tip of his nose. "Yes you are."

 

"Why's that then?" Sherlock asked, nuzzling John's cheek.

 

"Because you are," he smirked. "You're the most incorrigible person I've ever met."

 

"And you love me," Sherlock grinned.

 

“Yes, I do.”

 

"Good. Because I love you," Sherlock said softly.

 

John chuckled softly and reached up to give him another kiss. "Perhaps you should go finish the boring tasks so we can save a bit of excitement for tomorrow."

 

"Or we could have excitement both days..." Sherlock suggested.

 

John raised his eyebrows with a smirk. "Oh?"

 

"Oh yes," Sherlock grinned.

 

"Then come on," he grinned, taking Sherlock's hand and slowly walking backwards to their room.

 

Sherlock followed eagerly and as soon as they entered their chambers he lifted John into his arms and carried him to their bed. John gave out a surprised yelp and laughed as Sherlock carried him, pressing a kiss behind his ear.

 

Sherlock grinned and pressed a kiss to John's lips before dropping him on their bed and crawling up his body. John grinned from ear to ear as Sherlock climbed over him. It had been quite awhile since they had this kind of alone time and John was starving for it.

 

Sherlock settled between John's legs and kissed up and down his neck as he worked the buttons of John's shirt open as John tilted his neck to the side to give Sherlock better access.

 

"What should I do to you tonight?" Sherlock murmured.

 

"I don't know," he breathed. "We don't want it to eclipse tomorrow night, do we?"

 

"No, we don't. But I want tonight to be good as well," Sherlock said, sucking on John's collarbone. 

 

"Mm, and what idea did you have in mind?"

 

"Maybe a bit of foreplay... some gentle love making... but we'll save the big things for tomorrow," Sherlock said, kissing over John's chest to his nipples. 

 

John grinned and let a hand trail through Sherlock's hair, closing his eyes and letting his head fall back against the pillows. "That sounds excellent."

 

"Good. I'm looking forward to it greatly," Sherlock grinned. 

 

John chuckled and pulled Sherlock up to give him a proper kiss, moaning against his lips.

 

"God I love you," Sherlock groaned against John's lips.

 

John smirked and nipped at his bottom lip. "And I, you."

 

Sherlock grinned and kissed John deeply before working his way down his throat to tease his bond mark. John gasped and rolled his hips upwards.

 

"Love your reactions, love," Sherlock breathed against John's skin.

 

John whimpered in return and rolled his hips again.

 

"You'll be the death of me," Sherlock moaned.

 

"I hope not," he breathed. "It would be such a shame."

 

"It would be. Then I couldn't spend anymore time with you," Sherlock murmured.

 

"And we couldn't do this anymore," he smirked, hooking his leg up around Sherlock's waist.

 

"Mmmm. I'd miss this very much," Sherlock said, rocking his hips against John's.

 

John let out a strangled moan and bit down on his lower lip.

 

"You like that, don't you?" Sherlock smirked, rolling his hips again.

 

"Mfhm," John nodded, his breathing becoming ragged.

 

Sherlock smirked again and stopped moving his hips, beginning to work John's trousers open. "Going to make you feel so good," he murmured, beginning to kiss his way down John's body.

 

John let out a soft moan and shivered at his touch.

 

"You like that?" Sherlock smirked, kissing the same spot again.

 

John squirmed again and tightened his grip on Sherlock's waist.

 

"It's going to get more intense in a moment," Sherlock grinned, moving down John's body again.

 

As soon as Sherlock reached John's cock he swallowed it whole, working his throat around the head before pulling back up to lick at the slit.

 

John gasped and gave a low groan. Sherlock smirked around John's cock and sucked him deep into his throat again. John whimpered as Sherlock continued his ministrations and bit down hard on his bottom lip as he gripped tightly at the sheets.

 

Sherlock bobbed his head eagerly over John's cock, wanting to wring every drop of pleasure he could from John.

 

"Sherlock..." he panted heavily, feeling waves of tension come over him.

 

Sherlock popped off of John's cock wetly and licked at the head briefly. John let out another moan and bucked his hips.

 

"What do you want, John?" Sherlock asked breathlessly.

 

“I want _you_ ,” he breathed.

 

"You'll have me," Sherlock grinned, reaching behind John to press against his hole.

 

John let out another long moan and squirmed a bit.

 

"I love making you squirm," Sherlock smirked, letting his finger delve into John's body.

 

John gasped and his eyes opened wide. "Sherlock..."

 

Sherlock found John's sensitive prostate quickly and ran his finger over it lightly, making John squirm again and give a small whimper.

 

Sherlock smirked and added another finger.

 

"You... are insufferable," he breathed.

 

"But you love it," Sherlock grinned, scissoring his fingers.

 

John let out another strangled moan. "Yes..."

 

“Love seeing you like this…”

 

"Stop being such a tease," he moaned.

 

"You want something more than just my fingers don't you?" Sherlock smirked.

 

John rolled his eyes and pouted. Sherlock only smirked in response and withdrew his fingers slowly.

 

John pulled him down for another kiss and grinded against him. "Come on."

 

"With pleasure," Sherlock smirked, lining himself up with John's hole and pushing in all at once.

 

John gasped and let out a loud groan at the pressure, gripping tightly at Sherlock's waist. Sherlock began moving, slowly and torturously.

 

"You're horrible," John moaned, bucking his hips up in frustration.

 

"Slow and steady, love," Sherlock murmured. "The real show is for tomorrow..."

 

“God, it better be spectacular.”

 

"Don't worry. It will be," Sherlock smirked. 

 

John grinned and reached up to kiss him hungrily. Sherlock kissed back just as eagerly, speeding up his thrusts minutely.

 

John let out a soft moan and nipped at Sherlock's lips, reaching down to rub at his erection.

 

Sherlock knocked John's hand away gently. "Not yet, love."

 

John groaned and let out a small whine. "You are horrible."

 

"You love it..." Sherlock moaned.

 

"Yes, but you're going to regret it soon if you don't hurry up."

 

"Oh?" Sherlock asked, raising an eyebrow.

 

"Yes," he breathed, rutting his hips upwards.

 

Sherlock shuddered and moaned loudly.

 

John smirked and repeated the movement.

 

"Cheeky, John..." Sherlock gasped.

 

“And you love it," he mocked.

 

“God yes…”

 

John let out a soft moan and brought Sherlock down for another kiss.

 

Sherlock kissed John back passionately. "Want this to last, John..."

 

John bucked upwards and nipped at Sherlock's bottom lip. Sherlock nipped back, turning their languid kissing into a battle for dominance.

 

"Sherlock..." John moaned. "Come on."

 

Sherlock growled softly and began thrusting his hips faster.

 

John gasped and bucked his hips upward to meet his.

 

“So eager," Sherlock moaned. "Love when you're like this..."

 

"I'm so close..." John breathed as he reached down to rub at his erection.

 

"Then come. Come for me, John," Sherlock said.

 

John closed his eyes as he let out a shuddery breath and felt himself come over his hand and Sherlock's chest. Sherlock moaned as he felt John's release hit his chest and came himself at the feeling.

 

John let out a soft moan and panted heavily as he came down from his orgasm. "S-So... good..."

 

"Very good," Sherlock grinned, pressing a kiss to John's lips. "It'll be even better tomorrow."

 

John nodded and let his head fall back against the pillows. "It's been too long," he breathed.

 

"We've got an infant. I believe it will get better once Hamish is older," Sherlock said gently.

 

"Unless he constantly wakes us in the night with nightmares," he sighed.

 

"Then we'll have to find a way to solve his nightmares," Sherlock said simply.

 

John kissed him softly for a few moments before pulling away and gently stroking Sherlock's back. "I think we should stop now. Have to leave something for tomorrow, right?"

 

"Very true," Sherlock said, pressing another kiss to John's lips.

 

"You're not stopping," he mumbled against Sherlock's lips with a smirk.

 

"Just because we've finished with sex for the moment doesn't mean I've finished kissing you," Sherlock said, kissing John again for emphasis. Eventually, Sherlock worked his way down to John's neck and nuzzled his skin contently.

 

"Sleep, love. You need it,” he murmured.

 

"I'm fine," John yawned. "I need to go back and check on Hamish."

 

"I can check on him, love. You need to sleep," Sherlock said.

 

“You have work to finish.”

 

“Boring work,” he countered.

 

"But you still have to finish it," John smiled. "Sometimes I'd rather relax or do something else but I need to stay with Hamish."

 

"I'd rather stay with Hamish,” Sherlock mumbled.

 

"I'm not saying I don't either," John quickly corrected. "It's just very tiring taking care of an infant."

 

“We should switch for a day.”

 

John laughed and kissed his cheek, "You wish!"

 

"See, you don't want to do my paperwork, either," Sherlock chuckled, kissing John's neck.

 

"No one wants to do your paperwork, love."

 

“Especially me,” Sherlock muttered.

 

John chuckled softly and gave him a last, brief kiss. "Get dressed and go finish your paperwork, love. That way you'll have the whole day free tomorrow."

 

"Fine," Sherlock huffed, pressing a kiss to John's lips once more. "I love you."


	12. Anniversary Pt. 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As always, comments and suggestions are highly appreciated! :)
> 
> -broadwaybound

The next day, Sherlock stayed well clear of his office or any duties in general. He'd turned off their alarm the night before, allowing John to have a lie in and himself to cuddle John while he slept.

 

John awoke with a yawn and smiled when he felt Sherlock's arms wound around him protectively. "G'morning," he mumbled.

 

"Morning," Sherlock said softly, nuzzling John's neck. "Sleep well?"

 

"Mm..." John said noncommittally. "I don't want to get up yet."

 

"Then don't. We have the whole day..." Sherlock murmured.

 

John yawned and turned in Sherlock's arms, snuggling into the crook of his neck.

 

"I love laying with you like this," Sherlock murmured, kissing John's hair.

 

“Mm," John nodded, closing his eyes again. "It's nice. Your scent is really comforting."

 

"I'm glad you think so," Sherlock said softly. "Your own scent is perfect... so sweet..."

 

John smiled and pressed a kiss to Sherlock's neck.

 

"What should we do first, then?" Sherlock murmured.

 

John let out a soft groan and buried his face in Sherlock's neck. "Not get out of bed. It's too early."

 

"Can hardly believe that we've only been married a year," Sherlock mumbled.

 

"I know," John murmured back. "God, what a nightmare that day was."

 

"I remember. I don't think either of us were very happy that day.”

 

"No, we weren't," John shook his head.

 

"I thought I'd be miserable, being married. I've never been happier to be proven wrong," Sherlock said softly.

 

John smiled and pressed another kiss to his neck. "As am I."

 

Sherlock smiled back and nuzzled John's hair. "You and Hamish are the best things to ever happen to me.

 

“I’m glad,” he breathed.

 

"I doubt I would enjoy being married so much if it was to anybody else," Sherlock said truthfully.

 

"You didn't like me before we were bonded," John reminded him.

 

"True. But you're not like other people... you're smart and interesting. I'll never get bored of you," Sherlock murmured.

 

“Promise?”

 

“Promise.”

 

"Good," John smiled and reached up to press a kiss to his lips. Sherlock kissed John back happily and held him tightly by the waist.

 

John was just getting comfortable again when a baby's cry pierced the air. "Hamish!" John sat bolt upright.

 

"We can go to him if you'd like... spend the day as a family and let the nanny off until this evening," Sherlock suggested, propping himself up on his elbows.

 

"Thank you," John murmured and gave him a quick kiss before running off to the nursery.

 

Sherlock smiled and followed John down the corridor to Hamish's room.

 

"What's wrong?" John asked as he saw Hamish wailing in his crib and reached in to pick the infant up, cradling his head and lightly bouncing him. "Why are you crying, love?"

 

"Is he alright?" Sherlock asked softly, going to stand next to John and wrapping his arms around his waist.

 

"Yes, I think somebody needs a changing," he frowned, moving to the changing table.

 

"I'll do it if you'd like," Sherlock offered.

 

"You serious?" John raised an eyebrow. "I don't think I've ever seen you do that before."

 

"I can do it," Sherlock insisted. "How hard can it be?"

 

John eased the fussy Hamish into Sherlock's arms and smirked. "You'll see."

 

"Papa will take care of you, won't he?" Sherlock murmured to Hamish. "We'll show Daddy."

 

Hamish just cried louder, clinging to Sherlock's shirt with his small fists.

 

"Hush now, Hamish. Papa's got you," Sherlock murmured, laying Hamish on the changing table and working his shirt out of his little fist. John smiled slyly from the corner as he watched Sherlock struggle with their son.

 

Once Sherlock had his shirt free he rested a hand gently on Hamish's middle, using just enough pressure to keep him from rolling off and using his other hand to look for the nappies.

 

"In the drawer," John murmured, amused by the whole situation.

 

"I can do this myself, John," Sherlock huffed, but opened the drawer anyway. Hamish squirmed on the table and cried louder.

 

"I've got you, Hamish. Papa is going to fix it," Sherlock said determinedly.

 

"Are you sure you don't want help?" John smirked.

 

"I've got this, John," Sherlock insisted.

 

Grinning triumphantly, Sherlock set the fresh nappy on the changing table and began undressing Hamish. The baby boy screamed louder and kicked his limbs about, thoroughly unhappy.

 

"Stop squirming," Sherlock muttered softly. "Let Papa change your nappy... please, Hamish..."

 

"Just tell me when you want to give up," John chuckled.

 

Sherlock ignored John's comment and continued to struggle with Hamish's clothes.

 

John raised his eyebrows when Sherlock finally got Hamish's dirty nappy off. "Well, you've done half of it.

 

"See? I can do this, John," Sherlock said.

 

“Yes, well you’re not done yet.”

 

"I'm working on it," Sherlock said.

 

Hamish calmed down a bit once Sherlock cleaned him up and put on a fresh nappy, his cries fewer and shorter.

 

"There we go," Sherlock said, lifting Hamish into his arms. "All clean. I bet you're looking for your breakfast as well."

 

Hamish sobbed softly, letting out a small hiccup every now and then, and leaned against his father's chest.

 

"Is there a bottle around, John?" Sherlock asked, rubbing Hamish's back.

 

"Let me go fetch one," John nodded, rushing out of the room.

 

"There now, Hamish. Soon you'll have your breakfast and be nice and calm," Sherlock murmured.

 

John returned a few minutes later with a fresh, warm bottle. "Here we go."

 

"Thank you, love," Sherlock said, taking the bottle and adjusting Hamish in his arms so he could eat properly.

 

John smiled softly at the both of them and went around to wrap his arms around Sherlock's waist and look down at their son. "It's hard to believe he's three months old now."

 

“I know,” he breathed.

 

"And it definitely feels like we've been married more than a year."

 

“You think?”

 

"I don't know why... Possibly because I enjoy being with you so much," Sherlock grinned.

 

John chuckled softly and pressed a kiss to his cheek. Hamish gave a hiccup and startled John. "All done?" he laughed, taking the bottle away.

 

"I told you he was a good eater," Sherlock said, beginning to burp Hamish gently.

 

"When did you say that?" John laughed.

 

"When he was born," Sherlock said. "I said he had your appetite."

 

“You would remember something like that,” John chuckled.

 

“It’s true, though.”

 

John rolled his eyes and pressed a kiss to Sherlock's cheek. "What are we doing as a family today?"

 

"I don't know... I've never really done many family days before," Sherlock said.

 

"Why don't we take a walk down to the beach?"

 

“That sounds lovely,” Sherlock smiled.

 

"Let's get dressed and take lunch down there," John suggested, going to the dresser to pull out some clothes for Hamish.

 

"Go ahead and get dressed," Sherlock said, using one hand to take Hamish's clothes. "I'll take care of Hamish."

 

“You sure?”

 

“I’m sure,” Sherlock assured.

 

"Remember his coat, hat, and booties," John reminded, pressing a kiss to Sherlock's cheek. "It will be colder on the waterfront and just a onesie won't do it for him. We don't want him getting sick."

 

"Of course not," Sherlock said, leaning into John's touch. "I'll be sure to wrap him up nicely."

 

"Good," John smiled and hurried off to their room.

 

Sherlock chuckled and looked down at Hamish. "I don't know why Daddy doesn't think I can dress you properly. I may not care much about my own health and safety, but I care very much about yours." 

 

Hamish giggled and kicked against Sherlock’s hold.

 

"See? I've gotten you changed with no problem, I can get you dressed easily," Sherlock said, setting Hamish down on the changing table again. 

 

John reappeared a few minutes later, fully dressed. "All ready?" he asked as he went to the closet and pulled out the pram.

 

"Just about," Sherlock said, struggling to get Hamish's booties on. 

 

"You want me to do it?" he asked softly, pushing the pram over.

 

"I can do it, John," Sherlock insisted.

 

John smirked. “If you say so.”

 

“I do say so.”

 

John rolled his eyes and tapped his foot impatiently.

 

Sherlock finally managed to secure Hamish's kicking feet long enough to put his booties on and grinned as he lifted Hamish into his arms. "All ready."

 

"Good," John grinned and folded up the stroller before leading then downstairs. "I don't think Hamish has been off of the castle grounds before."

 

"We'll have to avoid the paparazzi," Sherlock sighed. "Maybe we should stay in the palace."

 

"We can't stay in here forever," John shook his head and taking Hamish from Sherlock's arms. "And you might want to change before we leave. That would make the paparazzi really go crazy." 

 

"I was planning on it. You take Hamish and get yourself some breakfast. I'll come down as soon as I've gotten dressed," Sherlock said.

 

"Hurry then," John nodded and left the pram in the hallway as he took Hamish to the kitchens.

 

John sat at a small table in the kitchens, eating a plate of eggs and toast, when Sherlock reappeared. "Ready?"

 

"As I'll ever be," Sherlock sighed, ducking down and kissing the top of John's head.

 

"Can you grab the picnic basket and blanket that are on the counter? I had a lunch packed for us."

 

"Of course," Sherlock said, kissing Hamish's head as well before fetching the picnic things.

 

John smiled as he plucked Hamish up from his high chair and head back into the hallway.

 

"Are you sure you want to do this? We could have a perfectly nice day here at the palace," Sherlock asked.

 

"You can't stay cooped up here forever," John shook his head as he placed Hamish in the pram and wrapped a blanket around him. "And you may be my Alpha, but I'm not going to allow you to keep me or Hamish shut in the palace for the rest of our days."

 

"I'm not trying to be overbearing... I'm just trying to protect you," Sherlock said softly.

 

"From _what_?"

 

“From the world.”

 

John's eyebrows knit together and stepped back a step. "I don't need your protection, Sherlock."

 

"I know, I know," Sherlock said hurriedly. "I just can't help myself. I want you to be safe, from the paparazzi especially."

 

"I'll be fine," he insisted and turned the pram around. "Let's go before you ruin the afternoon and I decide not to spend the rest of the day with you." It was an empty threat and he knew it, but Sherlock would react.

 

Sherlock tried to keep his reaction in check. "I'll stop. I promise."

 

"Good," John nodded wheeling the pram towards the door. "And don't do anything rash when we're out if you don't want to incite the paparazzi."

 

"So long as they don't start asking rude questions," Sherlock mumbled.

 

"Sherlock," John muttered as they left through the doors and walked into the gardens, sunlight streaming through the trees. "Watch it."

 

"I'll try my best," Sherlock said, wrapping his arm around John's waist.

 

John leaned into Sherlock's touch and pushed the pram out through the gates and out onto the city sidewalk. Sherlock tried his best to ignore his protective instincts and nod at the people coming up to congratulate them and coo over Hamish instead of growling at them like he really wanted to do. John treated them all kindly and stood for the pictures, luckily no paparazzi had shown up yet, and gave Sherlock's hand a squeeze as they continued their stroll.

 

"I want to find somewhere private on the beach," Sherlock mumbled to John between pictures.

 

"Good luck with that," John laughed.

 

"I just want to spend the day with you and Hamish without hundreds of hangers-on," Sherlock said softly.

 

"I know," John murmured. "But that's going to be hard in public. We're going to have to make some sacrifices.”

 

"Maybe we just spend an hour or two at the beach and then go back to the palace?" Sherlock suggested.

 

"We'll see," John nodded as they made their way down to the beach. "If Hamish gets fussy then we can leave early."

 

"Right," Sherlock said, instantly thinking of multiple ways he could _make_ Hamish fussy and shooting them down just as quickly. He would never do anything deliberately to upset Hamish.

 

"And don't try and sabotage the outing, Sherlock. I'll know if you do,” John said quickly.

 

"I won't, I promise. I do want this to be a nice day for you," Sherlock told him.

 

"And I want it to be a nice day for you too," John said softly, laying the blanket out on the sand.

 

Sherlock sighed softly and lifted Hamish from his pram. "I enjoy all the time I spend with you and Hamish, John."

 

"Oh really?" John raised an eyebrow. "Because you don't look very happy."

 

"I just wanted to spend time as a family, and then I got upset about paparazzi and people kept wanting to talk to us... it's safe to say the day is not going how I pictured it," Sherlock sighed.

 

John sighed and opened the picnic basket, grabbing a bottle for Hamish. "Well there's no one around now. Try and relax."

 

"I will," Sherlock said, passing Hamish to John so that he could wrap his arms around both of them at once.

 

John leaned back against Sherlock and let him hold him as he fed Hamish. Sherlock smiled and leaned in to nuzzle and kiss John's neck.

 

"What would the paparazzi say if they saw this," John teased.

 

"I'm not sure... most likely not the truth that we're a happy family," Sherlock sighed.

 

"Sherlock, I was talking about you nuzzling me," he laughed and set Hamish's bottle aside, turning the infant in his arms so he could burp him.

 

"Should I stop?" Sherlock questioned.

 

"No, don't," John smiled. "Let them think what they may."

 

John smiled as Hamish nodded off and leaned his head back against Sherlock's shoulder as he rocked their son to sleep. "I think Hamish is going to take a nap."

 

"It looks like it," Sherlock chuckled softly. "He's beautiful."

 

"He is," John nodded. "It'll give us a bit of alone time."

 

"And what should we do with our alone time?"

 

"This," John smirked, turning his head and pressing a kiss to Sherlock's lips.

 

Sherlock grinned against John's mouth and kissed him back happily.

 

"Being out isn't so bad, is it?" John laughed softly, kissing him again.

 

"Not so bad right now," Sherlock clarified.

 

John grinned and continued to kiss him, adjusting Hamish in his arms, being careful not to wake him.

 

"This is all I wanted to do today," Sherlock sighed happily.

 

"Me too," John hummed and deepened the kiss. Suddenly, there was a flash of light and the family was surrounded by photographers and their camera bulbs. Upon hearing the noise, Hamish awoke and started to cry.

 

Sherlock instantly broke away from John and leapt to his feet, growling at the paparazzi. The paparazzi continued to yell at them, asking to kiss again, and John leapt up as well while trying quiet Hamish.

 

"Go away," Sherlock snarled, shielding John and Hamish with his body. "Leave. Us. Alone."

 

A pair of security from the palace appeared and ushered them hurriedly away. "So much for our lunch," John grumbled, rubbing Hamish's back and bouncing him up and down.

 

"We'll take it into the garden," Sherlock said, quickly packing up their things as they left.

 

John nodded and continued to bounce Hamish as they walked back towards the castle. "It's rotten luck that happened," John sighed. "I was really looking forward to showing Hamish the beach."

 

"He wouldn't have remembered anyway," Sherlock pointed out. "We'll show him when he's older."

 

John sighed with a resigned nod and sat down on one of the benches in the shade of a hydrangea bush once they reached the palace gardens.

 

"Are you alright, love?" Sherlock asked, sitting down next to John.

 

"Yes, I'm just a bit shaken from the paparazzi," he murmured.

 

“I'm sorry, love. I should have noticed them before they ruined our morning," Sherlock said softly, wrapping his arms around John's waist.

 

John put the now quiet Hamish back in his pram and turned around to bury his face in Sherlock's chest. "You were right, we shouldn't have gone out," he mumbled.

 

"We'll have to take more security next time," Sherlock said, holding John tightly.

 

"You'll let us go out again?" he asked softly, lifting his head up to look at Sherlock's face.

 

"It makes you happy..." Sherlock murmured, kissing John gently. “I love you.”

 

"I love you too," John murmured. "Let's salvage what's left of our anniversary, hm?"

 

"We can do anything you want, love," Sherlock murmured. "So long as it's inside the palace grounds."

 

"Let's finish lunch first, alright?" John smiled lightly and pulled the picnic basket over. "I had them pack your favorite."

 

"Trying to fatten me up?" Sherlock asked playfully.

 

"I'm trying you to get you to actually take care of yourself," he corrected, handing Sherlock a sandwich.

 

"I do take care of myself," Sherlock mumbled, taking the sandwich but not eating it.

 

"Everything but eating and sleeping," John said as he took out another sandwich for himself. "And those are pretty important."

 

"Not as important as you think they are." 

 

John let out an exasperated sigh, "Sherlock..."

 

“What?”

 

"Just eat your sandwich," he muttered.

 

"It's obviously bothering you, John."

 

"You don't take care of yourself," he mumbled, busying himself with his sandwich.

 

“Does it bother you that much?" Sherlock asked softly. 

 

"Yes, Sherlock, it does," he continued, still not looking at his mate. "Hamish is still an infant and I have to spend all of my time taking care of him. You don't take care of yourself nearly as well as you should and so all of my free time is left to taking care of you." John said nothing about having no time for himself because that would be pushing it and he didn't want to upset his Alpha.

 

Sherlock was silent for a moment before sighing softly and taking a bite of his sandwich, making a silent promise to try and take better care of himself for John's sake. "I'm sorry, love. I didn't realize it upset you that much."

 

John said nothing, chewing his sandwich silently with quiet aggravation.

 

Sherlock wrapped his arm around John and kissed his hair softly. "I love you, you know."

 

“I know…” he mumbled.

 

"I'll take better care of myself," Sherlock murmured.

 

"Don't make empty promises, Sherlock."

 

"I'll try, at least. I'll try for you..."

 

John nodded and took a bite of his food. "Eat your sandwich," he mumbled.”

 

Sherlock kissed the top if his head and nodded before taking another bite.


	13. Anniversary Pt. 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the long wait! Life has been busy and I had a problem editing a large chunk of the story because the action was unneeded but the dialogue was. But it's finally here! I've learned a bit more about editing now so hopefully it's all a bit more succinct. 
> 
> -broadwaybound

John finished his sandwich quietly and took a swig from his water bottle. Hamish began to wake up again and John smiled down at him, "Hey there, my little prince."

 

"Come here, little one," Sherlock cooed, lifting Hamish gently from his buggy and holding him close, nuzzling his hair. Hamish giggled and kicked his little legs in response. "Such a happy boy," Sherlock grinned, tickling under Hamish's chin, emitting a peal of laughter from the infant.

 

"What else would you like to do?" John murmured, putting the Tupperware back in the picnic basket and cleaning up their rubbish.

 

"I'm not sure," Sherlock shrugged.

 

"Well that's helpful," John rolled his eyes.

 

"I don't care what we do. I just want to spend the day with you," Sherlock said.

 

"We could watch a film together and set Hamish out on a blanket with his toys," he shrugged.

 

"That would be nice," Sherlock said. "I won't even complain about the movie.

 

John snorted, "Yeah, I doubt that."

 

“I’ll try my best at least.”

 

John smirked and placed their things in the bottom of the pram. "Come on, I'll let you pick the movie so you won't complain as much."

 

"That sounds fine," Sherlock said, sanding with Hamish in his arms.

 

***

 

"What do you want to watch?" John asked once they were back, sitting down in one of the comfortable chairs in the home theatre room with a sigh.

 

"Oh, I don't know..." Sherlock mused. "I don't know anything about any of these."

 

“Just pick something.”

 

"Fine," Sherlock said, picking the first movie whose title he recognized. "Titanic, then." 

 

John smirked and bit back a laugh, knowing how much Sherlock would detest the film. "You have seen that movie, haven't you?" he asked.

 

"No, I've not. It's about the ocean liner, correct?" Sherlock asked. 

 

“Somewhat," John grinned. This was going to be interesting. "Just put it in," he said as he laid Hamish's blanket out on the floor.

 

"Fine," Sherlock said, popping the disk into the DVD player and setting Hamish on his blanket. John smirked to himself and set Hamish up with his toys before curling up next to Sherlock on the sofa.

 

"So how do you like the movie so far?" John asked after about a half an hour in.

 

"It's ridiculous and pointless," Sherlock complained. "I don't know why people put up with this rubbish. You can’t honestly say you enjoy this?"

 

“Yes, I do,” John retorted.

 

"This is pointless!"

 

"And why do you think that, Sherlock?"

 

Sherlock crossed his arms and grumbled under his breath. “You gain nothing from this.”

 

"Look at it from a perspective of the human condition and how people think and justify things rather than from an intellectual and factual perspective,” John suggested, looping one of his arms through Sherlock’s. Sherlock sighed and shook his head. “You're incorrigible," John muttered.

 

"And you're smarter than the teeming masses who enjoy this type of mind rotting entertainment,” Sherlock pointed out.

 

"Doesn't mean I can't enjoy it as well."

 

"I can't believe you enjoy this sort of thing..." Sherlock groaned.

 

"What? A love story?" he smirked.

 

"A bad love story..." Sherlock sighed.

 

“And why is it bad?”

 

"There's no point to it," Sherlock grumbled.

 

John's brow furrowed, "No point to a love story?”

 

"No point to watching one anyway."

 

"Alright fine," John sat up and disentangled himself from Sherlock. "If you don't like love stories then we might as well cancel our anniversary."

 

"John?" Sherlock said, sitting up in confusion as John moved to the far end of the sofa. "What have I said?"

 

"You said you don't like love stories," he shrugged.

 

"I don't like _watching_ them, surely. That doesn't mean I don't love _you_ , though," Sherlock insisted. John rolled his eyes, and after a moment of dramatic hesitation, he scooted back over to Sherlock and rested his head against his chest once more. "Am I forgiven, then?" Sherlock asked softly, wrapping an arm, around John’s waist.

 

“Mostly," he replied, tilting his head up to give Sherlock a quick peck on the lips.

 

"Mostly?" Sherlock questioned.

 

John smirked, "I'm still not completely convinced you like _this_ love story."

 

"I do very much," Sherlock grinned. "What will it take to prove it to you?"

 

"I don't know..." he said playfully, worrying his bottom lip. "I'm sure you'll think of something.”

 

"Should we call for the nanny?" Sherlock asked, raising his eyebrows suggestively.

 

"If that's what you want," he smirked slyly.

 

Sherlock grinned. “Oh, I want.”

 

"Then go call the nanny," he chuckled and went over to pick Hamish up.

 

***

 

When Sherlock heard John's steps approaching their room he took one last look around to make sure that everything was in place.

 

"Sherlock?" John called, pushing the door open a crack.

 

"Hullo," Sherlock said, standing from where he was seated on the edge of the bed. "What do you think?"

 

"Wow," John breathed, looking around at the warm glow the many candles cast around the room. "It's wonderful."

 

Sherlock surveyed his work again, a proud smile on his face. There were candles on almost every flat surface, and he'd been sure to tidy away all of his clutter. He'd debated sending for rose petals, but in the end he'd decided against them. Instead he'd taken the time to write many, many little notes for John to read.

 

"I love it," John murmured with a warm smile and walked over to take Sherlock's hands in his own.

 

"I'm so glad," Sherlock grinned, kissing the back of John's hand tenderly. John smiled softly and leaned over to press his lips against Sherlock's. "Happy Anniversary, my love," Sherlock murmured against John's lips with a smile.

 

"Happy Anniversary," John mumbled back. "And what surprise do you have in store for me tonight?"

 

"Now, John, if I told you it wouldn't be a surprise," Sherlock grinned. "You'll find out in good time." John huffed out a pout and wrinkled his brow. "Oh, stop it. You'll like it," Sherlock chuckled, kissing the wrinkles away. John smiled again and leaned into the touch. "Read one of the notes," Sherlock urged, pulling John down to sit with him on the bed.

 

"Okay..." John said warily and picked up a note that was placed on his pillow.

 

"There's no need to sound so nervous," Sherlock said, holding his breath as John began to read the note. The one on his pillow was really more of a letter, telling John how he'd felt before their wedding and how his mind had changed afterward. Telling him how much he loved him.

 

John smiled as his eyes roved over the words and he looked up at Sherlock with a soft expression when he was finished. "I love you too," he murmured.

 

Sherlock grinned and pulled John in for a kiss. "I meant every word in that letter, John," he breathed against his husband’s lips.

 

"I know," he breathed. "Thank you."

 

Sherlock smiled again and wound his arms around John's waist, pulling his omega on top of him as he lay back on the bed. John chuckled softly and shifted slightly to kiss Sherlock. "Are you ready for your surprise?" Sherlock grinned against John's lips.

 

“God, yes.”

 

"One part is for now, and the other part is for later," Sherlock said, pulling a gift bag from the floor beside the bed. John raised an eyebrow as he took the bag from Sherlock. "You'll know what I mean when you open it," Sherlock assured him. In the bag was a pot of dark chocolate body paint, as well as three tickets to the Caribbean. John pulled out the tickets first and grinned.

 

"We're taking a vacation?" he exclaimed.

 

"Yes. For two whole weeks once my schedule clears up. Just you, me, and Hamish," Sherlock grinned. “I’m afraid it won’t be for a few weeks though.”

 

"That sounds _perfect_ ," he sighed and reached up to give Sherlock another kiss. "Thank you, love."

 

"I'm glad you like it," Sherlock grinned, running his hands up and down John's sides. "Now for the next part..."

 

John gave a small smile and reached into the bag. "Oh," he blushed, looking down at the jar of chocolate body paint. "I suppose this is the part for now."

 

“If you’re interested,” Sherlock grinned.

 

"I'm interested," John smirked. "Just a bit nervous."

 

"What's there to be nervous about?" Sherlock asked softly.

 

"I don't know," he breathed. "You just make me feel that way sometimes. I guess that comes with being an Alpha."

 

"I'm sorry, love. I don't mean to make you feel that way," Sherlock murmured.

 

"It's okay," he shook his head. "Just kiss me again."

 

"With pleasure," Sherlock grinned. John chuckled softly and brought him down for a tender kiss. "I love you," Sherlock murmured against John's lips.

 

"I love you too," John mumbled back. "Now let's really celebrate our anniversary."

 

"Oh yes," Sherlock grinned. "Who should we paint first, hmm?"

 

"I don't know. You decide."

 

"I think you should paint me... I don't know if I'll make it past licking that stuff off of every inch of you..." Sherlock trailed off, his cock hardening as he spoke.

 

John laughed softly and nodded. "Alright."

 

He kissed along Sherlock's jaw and neck as he began to unbutton his shirt. Sherlock moaned and tilted his head back slightly and John pushed the shirt off his shoulders and kissed his way down Sherlock's neck, his teeth grazing his mate's collarbone. "Have I told you how good you are at this?" Sherlock moaned.

 

"Mm, I haven't heard it in awhile," he murmured, kissing Sherlock's pulse point.

 

"Then let me say... you are very, very good at this," Sherlock said, running his fingers up John's back.

 

Sherlock caught John's hands as they began to undo his trousers "You're entirely over dressed, John."

 

"Oh," John breathed. "I suppose I am."

 

Sherlock grinned and began working on John's shirt with deft fingers. John quickly shrugged out of his shirt and returned to work on Sherlock's trousers. “Scoot up,” he murmured as he tried to tug them off. Sherlock complied and John quickly pulled Sherlock's trousers off and ran his finger along the edge of his pants.

 

"God, John... Just do it, please!" Sherlock moaned.

 

John chuckled softly and palmed Sherlock through his pants. "Driving you crazy, am I?" he smirked.

 

"Always driving me crazy..." Sherlock groaned. John grinned and tugged at Sherlock's pants, pulling them off.

 

“Finally…” he moaned.

 

John laughed and pressed a kiss to Sherlock’s mouth. "Somebody's anxious."

 

"Haven't had much sex since before Hamish was born," Sherlock groaned into John's mouth.

 

“No, we haven’t,” John agreed.

 

“Need to fuck you, John.”

 

"I think you're getting a bit ahead of yourself," John chuckled.

 

"That's why you're going first," Sherlock reminded him.

 

John grinned and grabbed the pot, taking off the lid. “Where should I start?” he breathed.

 

“Anywhere!” Sherlock moaned.

 

John smirked and took a generous helping of chocolate and gooped up his fingers before rubbing them onto Sherlock's chest, trailing from his collarbone down to his bellybutton.

 

"Oh..." Sherlock moaned, arching into John's fingers.

 

John grinned and drew a heart on Sherlock's chest before bending down and licking a stripe up his chest. Sherlock moaned and arched again. “You like that?" John smirked, licking a stripe back down.

 

“Oh, yes,” Sherlock moaned.

 

John reached for the pot again and took a large amount of chocolate and slathered up his hands before taking Sherlock's cock in his hands and rubbing his hands vigorously. Sherlock groaned loudly and bucked into John's hands. John smirked and, once Sherlock was successfully covered, took him into his mouth and sucked. Sherlock moaned loudly and bucked his hips, burying his fingers in John's hair. John bobbed his head, slowing his pace a bit.

 

"Don't you dare stop," Sherlock warned, tightening his fingers slightly. John smirked and began to pick up again.

 

“Oh, god….”

 

John quickened his pace and began twisting his hand around what he couldn't fit in his mouth. Sherlock gasped and tugged John's hair. "Stop... John... stop..."

 

John stopped immediately and raised his head, "What is it?"

 

"Going to come... Don't want to come till I'm inside you..." Sherlock groaned. John nodded and moved back up to press a kiss to Sherlock's lips.

 

"My turn then," Sherlock grinned, reaching for the pot. He wasted no time in reaching into the pot and coating his fingers, dragging them over John's throat and down his chest. John gasped at the touch and let out a soft groan. Sherlock grinned to himself and licked over John's skin.  John moaned and wriggled a bit, tipping his head back. Sherlock licked away the chocolate quickly, adding more and moving farther down John's body, taking a moment to lave at his naval. John let out a gasp and his eyes fluttered closed.

 

"Love when you make those sounds," Sherlock groaned, moving to coat chocolate over John's entrance. John opened his legs and scooted up to give Sherlock better access.Once Sherlock was satisfied with the coating of chocolate he set to work tonguing John's hole. 

 

"Oh my god…" John gasped and let out a low groan.

 

Sherlock kissed John's hole and sucked on the delicate skin.

 

“God, Sherlock….” John moaned, tipping his head back in ecstasy.

 

Sherlock pointed his tongue and pushed it as deep as he could into John's body. John let out a moan and gripped tightly at the sheets.Sherlock tongue-fucked John furiously, trying to bring him to the very brink of orgasm.

 

"Sherlock..." John breathed, feeling his body tighten.

 

"You taste so good..." Sherlock groaned against John's skin.

 

John sucked in a breath and reached down to rub at his erection.

 

"So eager," Sherlock smirked.

 

"Because you're a bloody tease!" he huffed.

 

"A tease, am I?" Sherlock chuckled and blew cool air over John's twitching hole.

 

"Oh my god..." he gasped. "I hate you."

 

"No you don't," Sherlock said, smirking against John's skin.

 

“I know… but…”

 

Sherlock grinned and moved up to kiss John deeply. "I know."

 

John kissed him back hard and bucked up against him.

 

"Ready?" Sherlock asked, lining himself up with John's hole.

 

“Yeah,” he breathed.

 

Sherlock pushed with a groan and pressed their lips together. John let out a moan and nipped at Sherlock's bottom lip.

 

"God, you feel so good," Sherlock groaned. He moaned against John's lips and began thrusting in earnest.

 

"Love you... so... much..." John breathed.

 

"Love you, too," Sherlock moaned.

 

John bucked his hips up again and began to rub frantically at his erection. "No," Sherlock managed, pulling John's hand away. "Want you to come just from my cock..."

 

"You're heartless," he huffed.

 

"You'll thank me later," Sherlock smirked. 

 

“We’ll see…”

 

"Oh, I know you will," Sherlock said, moving his hips faster. 

 

John gasped and bit down hard on his bottom lip. Sherlock groaned and bent his neck to nip at John's throat.

 

"Sherlock..." he breathed, tilting his neck back.

 

Sherlock sank his teeth into John's neck lightly before laving over the spot with his tongue. John groaned and bucked up his hips. "So close..."

 

"Come for me..." Sherlock groaned. "Come for me, John!" 

 

John gasped and with a few more thrusts from Sherlock, he came all over the both of them. The tightening of John's muscles was all that Sherlock needed reach his orgasm, and he emptied himself into John's arse. John panted heavily as he came down from his climax and smiled lazily at Sherlock.

 

"God, John... you're amazing..." Sherlock panted, kissing John gently. John huffed out a laugh and pressed a kiss to Sherlock's temple. "Happy Anniversary, my love," Sherlock said, kissing John. 

 

"Happy anniversary," he smiled.

 

"Was it as good as you hoped it would be?" 

 

"Better," John grinned, reaching up to give Sherlock another kiss.

 

"Good," Sherlock grinned, pressing their lips together happily.

 

"I think we need to clean up a bit," he laughed, looking at the mess around them.

 

"Would you like to join me in the shower, then, love?" Sherlock asked softly. 

John chuckled softly and nodded.

 

Once in the bathroom Sherlock busily prepared their shower, making sure the temperature was just right before leading John in with a smile.

 

"Always so devious," he smirked, wrapping his arms around Sherlock's neck.

 

"But you love it," Sherlock smirked. 

 

John grinned and reached up on his toes to kiss him. Sherlock grinned and kissed John back happily, wrapping his arms around John's waist. "I thought we were supposed to be taking a shower," John teased.

 

"We can do a bit of kissing, can't we?" Sherlock asked innocently.

 

"You and I both know that wasn't your intention."

 

"Well... a bit more sex has ever hurt anyone," Sherlock grinned. 

 

John rolled his eyes and reached down to pinch his arse. Sherlock jumped slightly and grinned down at John. "Cheeky. Up for another round, love?”

 

“I could be, yeah,” he smirked.

 

"What are we waiting for, then?" Sherlock asked, letting his hands trail down to cup John's bum.John smirked and reached up to kiss him again. Sherlock grinned against John's lips and kissed him back, walking him back until his back hit the wall gently. The water fell against them in fervent drops and slid down their bodies as John hooked his leg up around Sherlock's waist.

 

"So eager," Sherlock groaned, licking up John's neck. 

 

John gasped and let out a small groan. "God yes," he moaned.

 

Sherlock hitched John's other leg over his hip and pushed him more firmly against the wall as he pressed their lips together hungrily. John gripped tightly to Sherlock's neck so as not to fall when Sherlock lifted him into his arms. John brought his hips up and pressed against his Alpha as they kissed heatedly. Sherlock groaned into John's mouth and thrust against John's hips briefly before lifting him up slightly so he could press his cock against John's hole. John shuddered and grazed his nails against Sherlock's back. "Someone else is eager too."

 

"Always eager for you, my love," Sherlock panted. 

 

John grinned and kissed him hard. Sherlock groaned again and reached down to guide his cock into John's awaiting hole. John let out a moan as Sherlock pushed inside him. "Still so tight," Sherlock moaned. 

 

John rolled his hips and pressed a kiss to Sherlock's neck. Sherlock moaned and began thrusting wildly into his mate. John gasped and sunk his nails into Sherlock's back as he held him tighter. Sherlock began nipping and biting at John's throat, focusing his attention on John's bond bite.  John moaned and tipped his neck back so his head was resting against the shower wall.

 

"So close already, John..." Sherlock groaned. 

 

“Sherlock…”

 

“Come for me, John…”

 

John panted heavily, feeling himself on the cusp of climax. Sherlock reached between their bodies and gripped John's cock, hoping to send his mate over the edge first.  John gasped and felt his body tighten before coming all over Sherlock's hand. Sherlock groaned as John came, the tightness of his entrance sending him over the edge as well. John panted heavily and let his head fall back against the shower wall, his eyes fluttering closed.

 

"So good, John..." Sherlock sighed, pressing their foreheads together. 

 

“Love you…”

 

“Love you, too,” Sherlock said.

 

 John breathed heavily as he caught his breath and a small smile lit up his face.

 

"What are you so happy about?" Sherlock chuckled. 

 

“You,” he breathed.

 

"You make me happy, too," Sherlock grinned.

 

"Good," he chuckled and pressed a kiss to Sherlock's head.

 

"Let's take a real shower now... then maybe cuddle with Hamish for a bit?" Sherlock suggested softly.

 

“Good idea,” John nodded and wiggled a bit. "Mind putting me down so we can get properly clean?" he smirked.

 

"Fine," Sherlock said with an exaggerated sigh as he let John down.

 

John rolled his eyes and gave him a playful swat.

 

"Oi," Sherlock said in mock anger. "What kind of way is that to treat your alpha?"

 

John swallowed hard, "Sorry." Sherlock had never played the Alpha card before, not even in jest.

 

"Hey," Sherlock said softy, noticing John's reaction and cupping his cheek. "I didn't mean it, love. I'm sorry."

 

John nodded and reached up to give him a kiss. "Don't scare me like that, please."

 

"I won't do it again. I promise," Sherlock said, kissing John back gently.

 

"Okay. Let's finish this shower, yeah?" he asked, grabbing the shampoo bottle.

 

***

 

"There's our little prince," John grinned as they entered the nursery. "Hey there, little one. Did you miss us?" John smiled, cradling Hamish in his arms and bouncing him lightly. Sherlock watched quietly while John rocked Hamish back and forth and nuzzled the boy's tummy with his nose, emitting a peal of laughter. "Would you like to old him?" he asked Sherlock.

 

Sherlock walked up behind John and wrapped his arms around him, one slipping under Hamish to help support him. "I'm fine right here," he said, kissing John's cheek and resting his chin on John's shoulder. 

 

John smiled softly and rocked them back and forth, humming a lullaby to Hamish. Sherlock joined in on the lullaby, stroking Hamish's hair gently. Hamish let out a small yawn and blinked. "He's perfect," Sherlock murmured softly. 

 

“He is,” John nodded.

 

“And so are you.”

 

John blushed and continued their swaying motion as Hamish closed his eyes.

 

"My perfect family..." Sherlock murmured. John grinned and turned slightly to reach up and give Sherlock a kiss.Sherlock kissed back happily and then pressed their foreheads together. 

 

"I love you both so much," John whispered.

 

"I love you both as well," Sherlock murmured. "More than anything." John looked down at Hamish's sleeping form and quietly disentangled himself from Sherlock to place their son in his cot. Sherlock smiled softly and reached into the cot stroke Hamish's cheek gently. "Good night, Hamish. Sleep well." 

 

John reached down and pressed a kiss to Hamish's forehead before the pair of them walked out silently, shutting the door behind them. "Ready for bed?" Sherlock asked softly, wrapping an arm around John's waist.

 

"You're tired?" John raised an eyebrow.

 

"No, but we just had sex twice. I know you like to sleep and cuddle after activity like that," Sherlock said with a smile.

 

John chuckled softly and reached up to kiss Sherlock's cheek. "Alright, but I'm not ready to go to bed yet," he grinned. "Our anniversary isn't over yet."

 

"Oh?" Sherlock asked, raising his eyebrows. "What else would you like to do?"

 

"For one, I have all of those notes left to read."

 

"You plan on reading all of them tonight?"

 

"Well how many did you write?"

 

"I don't know," Sherlock shrugged. "I wrote one every time I thought of something new I loved about you."

 

John raised his eyebrows, "Really? How long have you been writing them?"

 

“A few months.”

 

"Wow," he breathed. "You've really been thinking about this."

 

"I have," Sherlock said softly.

 

John stared up at him softly before reaching up on his toes and pressing a kiss to Sherlock's lips. "I feel bad that I didn't get you anything as thoughtful," he murmured.

 

"It's fine, love," Sherlock murmured, wrapping his arms around John's waist. "I've got you, and Hamish. What more could I want?"

 

"Another child?" he suggested softly.

 

"There is that," Sherlock said softly, nuzzling John's cheek. "But only when you're ready." 

"I think we should wait until Hamish is just a bit older."

 

"That's fine with me, love," Sherlock said. John nodded with a smile and kissed him again. "Wish we could spend more time like this," Sherlock murmured, nuzzling John's cheek. 

 

"So do I," he sighed. "How long is it until we take that trip?"

 

"Just three weeks," Sherlock murmured, rubbing John's back. 

 

“That can’t come soon enough.”

 

"Not for me either," Sherlock grinned softly. "I've been looking forward to it for quite a while." 

 

"Just you, me, Hamish, and paradise," he grinned, resting his head against Sherlock's shoulder. "Nothing could be better."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for being patient with us! I'll try to get the next chapter up as soon as I can. Please comment and leave suggestions! We love it when you do.
> 
> -broadwaybound


	14. Vacation pt. 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a few things that are a little out of sort in this story (i.e. Sherlock and John going through security) but we ask you to suspend your disbelief. This is an AU and anything goes. As always, feedback is much appreciated. Thanks for sticking with us!

Sherlock hated airports. Security was on high alert, and they wouldn't leave himself, John, and Hamish any room to walk without bumping into them. Thankfully, the resort they were going to catered specifically to clients like them, and the security was incredibly discrete. Once they got on their plane, they'd be as alone as they could be. 

 

"Hamish, please quiet down," John sighed bouncing his son up and down against his shoulder and rubbing his back. It had been the first time Hamish had been outside of the palace other than the one excursion to the beach and he was not happy about it. "Sherlock, can you please pass me his stuffed rabbit?"

 

Sherlock dug in the baby bag he had slung over his shoulder and quickly withdrew Hamish's rabbit, which was already showing signs of being well loved. He fell back a  step behind John so he could wiggle the toy in front of Hamish's face playfully, hoping to distract him from his unfamiliar surroundings. Hamish cried even louder and John kissed his head. "Come on, love. Quiet down for me," he murmured. They were standing in line at security and everyone was already staring at them for being royalty, having a crying infant didn't help.

 

Hamish scrunched up his face and stopped crying, hiding it in John's shoulder. "Finally," he breathed.

 

"There, now," Sherlock said with a soft smile, kissing Hamish's head gently. "Daddy and Papa are here, Hamish. There's no need to be frightened." Hamish hiccupped and sniffled, his sobs quieting as John rocked him back and forth.

 

"It's okay," John soothed. "We're right here."

 

"I hope he's not too upset on the plane," Sherlock said, biting his lip as he cupped Hamish's head gently. "Or at the resort... I want to spend our time snuggling and playing, relaxing."

 

"Hopefully he should just sleep," John nodded as they approached the security checkpoint. He handed Hamish off to one of the guards briefly before taking his shoes off and depositing them into one of the tubs. Sherlock kept a close eye on Hamish and the guard as he took off his shoes and belt, knowing the guard wouldn't do anything to Hamish but unable to squash the instinct.

 

"Thanks," John nodded as he took Hamish back and carried him with himself through the metal detector. Sherlock waked through the metal detector after John and held Hamish for him while he put his shoes back on. "Thanks, love," he smiled as Hamish returned to his arms. "That wasn't so bad, now was it, sweetheart?"

 

Sherlock kissed Hamish's head gently and wrapped his arm around John's waist as they walked farther into the airport. "Not bad at all."

 

"How long before our plane leaves?" John asked, trying to calm Hamish again who had started to fuss.

 

"Just thirty minutes," Sherlock said. "Do you want me to take him, love?"

 

"If you want to. I don't particularly mind, but if you'd like to hold him you can."

 

"Come here then, you," Sherlock said, lifting the fussy baby from John's arms and bouncing him slightly.

 

"I'm going to go get a coffee," John sighed, smoothing down his jumper. "You want anything?"

 

"I'm fine. Don't be too long," Sherlock said, kissing John's cheek. 

 

John smiled and raced off to the small Starbucks stand across the way in the food court. Sherlock glanced over in John's direction every few minutes, making sure he knew where he was between trying to calm Hamish's fuss. John returned a few minutes later, coffee in hand and carrying a scone. "Ready?"

 

"I am. Let's go," Sherlock said with a smile. John grabbed his bags and followed Sherlock around the corner as they were once more surrounded by their team of security. Sherlock smiled and bounced Hamish a bit more as they walked. "Are you excited, love?" 

 

"Very," John grinned. "It will be so nice to spend all this time with just the two of you; no disturbances or interruptions."

 

"That's exactly why I planned the trip," Sherlock said. "I'm tired of spending snatches of time with you two in between bloody paperwork and boring meetings."

 

"Well, I'm glad you scheduled it," John smiled, stopping to pull Sherlock into a kiss. Sherlock kissed back happily and cupped John's cheek with his free hand.

 

"So am I." 

 

Sherlock really was glad he booked this trip. It made him feel like a normal person, doing a normal activity as opposed to being treated like the prince he was. It would be nice to pretend to be normal for once.

 

Finally finding their gate, John sat down and pulled Hamish's bag up next to him. "Can you hand him to me please?" he asked, pulling out a bottle.

 

"’Course, love," Sherlock said, handing Hamish over gently. John situated Hamish in his arms and grabbed one of the full bottles.

 

"If I feed him now then hopefully he'll sleep on the plane. The sucking motion should also help so his ears won't plug up and hurt."

 

"I hope so, too. I hate hearing him cry because he's in pain," Sherlock said softly. 

 

"And on an airplane it's even worse. Have you ever flown with crying children before?"

 

"I can't say that I have," Sherlock admitted. 

 

"You don't want to," John said solemnly.

 

"I rather think it will be worse when the baby is your own..." Sherlock mused. 

 

"I'm sure it is! Because then everyone is staring at you and you're trying your best to calm the child and there's nothing that you can do."

 

Sherlock looked at Hamish and brushed his fingers over his hair. "You'd best behave, little one," he said gently.

 

"Or what?" John smirked, feeding him the bottle.

 

"Or he won't be getting the shovels and buckets I brought for him to play with on the beach," Sherlock said matter of factly. 

 

"Uh oh," John grinned cheekily.

 

"Exactly. If that isn't an incentive to behave himself, I don't know what is," Sherlock grinned. 

 

John laughed softly and started to burp Hamish once he had finished his bottle.

 

"I'm sure he'll be a good boy. He always is," Sherlock smiled.

 

"Yes," John smiled, grabbing a burp rag. "As long as he doesn't get into one of his fits, but I think he already used that one up when we were going through security."

 

"Probably tired himself out," Sherlock agreed, noticing the way Hamish's eyes were drooping already. "I've never had a real vacation, you know.”

 

"Never?" John raised his brow in shock.

 

Sherlock shook his head. "Mother and Father never fancied holidays. I hardly left the palace as a child." 

 

"Is that why you don't like Hamish and I leaving?" his brow knit in consternation.

 

"A bit... you're not as safe outside the palace," Sherlock said softly. "I don't know what I'd do if something happened to either of you." 

 

"You don't need to worry about that. We're both fine."

 

"You are at the moment," Sherlock said softly. 

 

 

***

 

 

"Wow," John breathed as he stepped inside in the jet. "It's enormous! And it's only us?"

 

"Just us," Sherlock assured him, taking their bags through into the sitting room and stowing them under one of the sofas. "And I've had them put a cot for Hamish in the bedroom."

 

"How long is this plane ride?" he teased, walking into the main cabin. "Do we really need a bedroom?"

 

"My father is the one who bought the plane. Obviously he thought it was necessary," Sherlock shrugged.

 

John smirked and sat down on one of the sofas that were bolted to the floor. "What do you think, Hamish?" he asked, bouncing his son lightly on his knee. "Your first plane ride!"

 

Sherlock sat next to John and watched him and Hamish with a smile on his face. 

 

"What are you most excited for on this trip?" John asked.

 

"Spending time with my two favorite people.”

 

John rolled his eyes, "Anything else?"

 

Sherlock thought for a moment. "Nope. That's all I want to do." 

 

John chuckled and leaned against him. "What about you, love?" Sherlock asked, wrapping an arm around John's shoulders. "What are you looking forward to?"

 

"Hm...." John pondered it over for a moment. "Other than spending time with you two, which is a given, I think I'm going to enjoy seeing the island."

 

"From the pictures I've seen, it is a very nice island," Sherlock agreed. 

 

"I'd love to go sight seeing," he grinned.

 

"Then that's what we'll do," Sherlock smiled. 

 

John closed his eyes and let his head fall against Sherlock's shoulder. "Tired?" Sherlock asked softly. 

 

"Mm, not really," he shrugged. "But I want to sleep because there will be a time zone shift and jet lag. I want to spend the most time I can relaxing at the resort, not sleeping."

 

"That does sound like a good idea," Sherlock said with soft smile.

 

"But you're never tired," he chuckled, arranging Hamish in his arms so he was leaning back against Sherlock’s shoulder.

 

"No, I'm not. But it is a very good idea for you," Sherlock said. 

 

John nodded and settled back into the seat. "We'll see how much sleep I actually get," he frowned. "It's hard enough sleeping on a plane when you don't have a baby to take care of."

 

"I can take care of him if you'd like," Sherlock murmured. 

 

"You don't have to do that, Sherlock."

 

"I don't mind," Sherlock said. "I like taking care of him."

 

"Time to go to Papa," John smiled and handed Hamish over to Sherlock.

 

Sherlock smiled down at Hamish. "Hello, little prince. Are you going to be good so that Daddy can take a nap, hmm?" Hamish giggled up at Sherlock grabbed onto his index finger. "There you are. Daddy and Papa like giggling much better than fussing," Sherlock said, wiggling his finger playfully in Hamish's little fist.

 

Hamish laughed and waved his fist happily. John smiled over at them before leaning his head back and closing his eyes. "Hush, now, love," Sherlock murmured. "Daddy wants to sleep."

 

Much to Sherlock's chagrin, Hamish squealed even louder and kicked his tiny legs in enjoyment. "I said hush," Sherlock said, repositioning Hamish so that he was cradled in his arms and rocking him gently, hoping to lull him to sleep. Hamish quieted down but didn't sleep, blinking up at his father with curious eyes.

 

"That's it, love," Sherlock smiled. Hamish grabbed onto Sherlock's finger again and waved it around. Sherlock chuckled softly and leaned down to kiss his forehead. Hamish wrinkled his nose and turned his head, kicking his legs again. Clearly, he wasn't sleepy.

 

"You're not going to make this easy for me, are you?" Sherlock chuckled. "Alright. What do you want to do, then, Misha?"

 

Hamish giggled again and blew a raspberry, waving his fist in the air.

 

"We'll read a book, how does that sound?" Sherlock said, reaching for Hamish's bag and pulling out a few books. Hamish grabbed onto the first one and put the edge of it in his mouth.

 

"That one, then?" Sherlock said, tugging the book out of Hamish's mouth gently. " _'The Cat in the Hat_.' I suppose that's a fine choice. I think I might have deleted it, so we'll both be hearing it for the first time."

 

Hamish tried to grab for the book again but Sherlock raised it out of his reach, causing the little boy to pout. "Chew on this one, love," Sherlock said, handing Hamish another book. Hamish giggled happily and put the thicker, wooden children's book in his mouth.

 

"There you are," Sherlock smiled down at Hamish. "Let's start reading, yeah?" Hamish clapped his little hands and continued to chew on the edge of his book. Sherlock rearranged Hamish in his lap and began to read quietly, hoping not to disturb John more than he had to. Hamish listened quietly, the book dropping from his mouth after awhile. His eyes began to droop as Sherlock's soft rumble of a voice continued to read.

 

Sherlock read until he felt Hamish go completely limp in his arms. He smiled down at his son before setting the books aside and carrying Hamish into the bedroom to put him in his cot. Hamish shifted slightly in his sleep as Sherlock moved, but didn't wake. Sherlock smiled down at Hamish and turned the light off in the room before going back out to John and wrapping his arms around his mate. 

 

John stirred slightly and nestled into Sherlock's embrace. "Sherlock...?" he mumbled sleepily.  

 

"Go back to sleep, love," Sherlock murmured. "We still have hours to go yet." John nodded, still in a daze, and shifted so his head was lying in Sherlock's lap. Sherlock smiled down at John and rand his fingers through his hair. 

 

"Love you," he mumbled, settling in for the rest of the flight.

 

John awoke to the sound of crying just as the plane was beginning to descend. "Hamish!" John sat bolt upright.

 

"He's fine, love," Sherlock said, attempting to soothe him. "His ears have probably just popped."

 

"I need to feed him then," John moved to get up. "I'm sure he's in pain."

 

"You sit," Sherlock insisted, standing up. "I'll get him for you." Sherlock fetched Hamish and came back, bouncing and cooing at the upset baby soothingly.

 

John gathered Hamish into his arms and quickly procured a bottle. "Here we are, love," John cooed. "Suck on your bottle. It will help." Hamish continued to fuss in John's arms, refusing to take the bottle. 

 

"Come on, Hamish," John sighed, trying his best to coax the bottle into his son's mouth. Hamish kicked his feet and waved his arms around, making it difficult for John to even get the bottle close to his mouth. "Sherlock, can you help me?" John asked in exasperation.

 

"What do you want me to do?" Sherlock asked, sitting down next to John.

 

“Help hold him still.”

 

Sherlock plucked Hamish from John's arms and held him tightly to his chest. 

 

"Thank you," John nodded and brought the bottle to Hamish's mouth. "Please eat, love."

 

Hamish sucked on the bottle for a moment, only to start fussing again. "Please, love. It will help with the pain," John frowned. He hated seeing his son in pain and not being able to do anything about it. Hamish eventually accepted the bottle and sucked on it around lingering whimpers. 

 

"There we are," John said gently, tilting the bottle back. "Keep sucking and the pain will go away."

 

"That wasn't so hard, was it?" Sherlock said softly, kissing Hamish's head. John moved to sit beside Sherlock, still holding the bottle, as Hamish's cries softened. "Almost through, Hamish," Sherlock murmured as they got closer and closer to the ground.

 

The plane touched down and Sherlock grinned over at John. "Welcome to the Caribbean, love."

 

John grinned and moved to the window to look out. "Wow," he breathed. "It's gorgeous!"

 

"It is, isn't it?" Sherlock grinned, going to stand behind John with Hamish in his arms. John turned and pressed a kiss to Sherlock's lips.

 

"Thank you for this."

 

"It's really not a problem, love," Sherlock said. "This is just as much for me as it is for you." 

 

"Yes," he laughed, kissing him again. "But thank you for getting us out of that musty old palace. I know that it's safest for us there, but I do hate being cooped up all the time and as the future king, Hamish needs to see the world."

 

"Don't think I'm just taking us to any old resort, love. We're going to be just as safe there as we are in the palace," Sherlock said.

 

John sighed and sat back in his seat. "Other than the security, is it more special than 'any old resort'?"

 

"I've booked us the best suite they have. It's a little villa, really, and its got beach access _and_ a private pool. And then there's the main building; six different restaurants, another huge swimming pool and five water slides," Sherlock said. "And I've booked some surprises for us while we're there."

 

"Really?" John grinned deviously. "What sort of surprises?"

 

"If I told you, you wouldn't be surprised, would you?" Sherlock chuckled.

 

John narrowed his eyes slightly but grinned even wider. "You're going to drive me mad," he shook his head.

 

"And you'll love every minute," Sherlock grinned back.

 

The plane landed within minutes and John ran to grab their bags as the plane pulled up to the gate. "Come on!" he grinned. "I want to start this vacation as soon as possible!" Sherlock chuckled at John's enthusiasm and secured Hamish in his arms, following John out into the airport. 

 

"Wow, it's, er, really hot," John cleared his throat and pulled at the neck of his jumper as they stepped off of the plane.

 

"I did tell you not to wear a jumper this morning," Sherlock said. 

 

"Shove off," John rolled his eyes.

 

"Maybe now you'll listen to me next time," Sherlock chuckled softly, wrapping his free arm around John's waist. John sighed and leaned into Sherlock's touch as he fell in step beside him.

 

"So, how far away is the resort?" John queried as they entered the airport and waited for their attendants to retrieve the rest of their bags.

 

"About thirty minutes," Sherlock said. "There should be a car waiting to take us there.

 

"Alright," he nodded and leaned over to give Hamish a raspberry on his stomach and received a peal of giggles for his effort. 

 

"Let's get going," Sherlock said, taking John's hand. 

 

Sherlock helped John to settle in the backseat before handing Hamish to him and climbing in himself. 

 

"You ready to go to the resort, Hamish?" John asked, bouncing him on his knee.

 

"I'm certainly more than ready," Sherlock said, wrapping his arm around John's shoulders.

 

"And what do you want to do first once we get there?"

 

Hamish yawned and settled back into John's arms. "I think Hamish wants to take a nap first," John chuckled, readjusting him in his arms and rocked him softly.

 

"I think that can be arranged," Sherlock nodded. John smiled and leaned back into his arms. "What would you like to do after Hamish's nap?" Sherlock asked softly. 

 

"I'm going to let you choose since you keep insisting on doing what I want to do."

 

"This is my gift to you, love. I want nothing more than to do what you want to do," Sherlock said. 

 

John rolled his eyes, "Sherlock, I know nothing about the island. You're the one that booked the trip! Suggest something then."

 

"We could go to dinner... we can sit by the pool... we might even be able to see a show," Sherlock listed off. 

 

"Dinner sounds good," John nodded. "Will we be able to leave Hamish asleep or should we take him along? I realize it's not the palace but you did say there was security."

 

"We could leave him, but we haven't got any way to know if he wakes up," Sherlock said. 

 

"Right, no nanny," he sighed. "We'll just have to wait until his nap is over."

 

"We will. We can take a quick dip in our pool while he sleeps if you like," Sherlock suggested.

 

"Okay," he grinned. Sherlock nuzzled John's cheek with a grin on his face as well.

 

"Sounds perfect." 

 

John smiled and reached up to give him a soft kiss. Sherlock kissed John back happily, then pulled away to kiss Hamish's forehead. Hamish shifted in his sleep and curled in closer to John's chest. "I wonder why our parents weren't like this," John whispered softly, gazing down at Hamish's sleeping form. "I was mostly raised by a nanny."

 

"I was raised by multiple idiots who called themselves nannies," Sherlock sighed. "The most my father could be bothered with me was making sure I didn't muck up enough to tarnish my name." 

 

"But why?" John mused aloud. "Why didn't they care? I can't imagine not loving a child. My own flesh and blood."

 

"I don't know," Sherlock said, kissing John's forehead. "All I know is we won't be doing the same to Hamish."

 

"I couldn't dream of not loving him."

 

"Neither could I," Sherlock agreed, brushing Hamish's hair off his forehead. "The only person I love more than him is you." 

 

"Don't say that," John frowned. "I love you both equally. Just in different ways."

 

"That's a nice way of thinking about it," Sherlock mused. "I rather like that." 

 

 

***

 

 

The car pulled up to the resort and they got out. Hamish fussed a bit about having been woken and John quickly tried to quiet him. "Shh, love," he hushed, bouncing him lightly. "You're just not in a good mood today, are you?" 

 

"He seemed fine while you were napping," Sherlock said, retrieving their bags and leading them inside. "He was quite content, actually." 

 

"Maybe you just have the magic touch," he rolled his eyes.

 

"I doubt it," Sherlock chuckled. John sighed and followed Sherlock as they entered the resort.

 

"What do you think, love?" Sherlock asked, looking around the lobby himself. It was decorated with tasteful blues and whites, giving it a very beach-y feel, along with the large, open windows looking out onto a beach lined with palm trees and the ocean beyond it.

 

"It's great!" John grinned, finally getting Hamish to settle down and look around at the scenery.

 

"I'm glad you like it," Sherlock grinned as they stepped up to the check in desk. John smiled and decided to walk Hamish around the lobby and point things out to him from the window as Sherlock got all of their things taken care of.

 

“Look at the pretty bird, Hamish!” John pointed out the window to one of the tropical birds flying around. “So many colors. Blue and yellow and green.” Hamish giggled happily and John pressed a kiss to his cheek.

 

“All checked in?” he asked when Sherlock made his way back over to them.

 

"All checked in. Our bags are being taken to our villa, so we can take our time getting there if you'd like," Sherlock said, wrapping an arm around John's waist. 

 

"I'd love to see parts of the resort," he grinned. "This is absolutely perfect."

 

"Lets take a walk, then," Sherlock grinned. He led John outside and they walked down a boardwalk path, passing the pool area. 

 

"This is the pool?" John asked. "Look, Hamish! There's a kiddie pool for you!"

 

"I think we'll have a lot of fun there," Sherlock smiled at his son.

 

"I think we will too," John agreed.

 

"Oh?" Sherlock said, raising an eyebrow. 

 

"It looks so relaxing and yet it has accommodations for children. You did well picking this resort, Sherlock." 

 

"Thank you, love," Sherlock grinned, pressing their lips together. "I only tried my best."

 

John kissed him back tenderly before they continued on their way. "What else would you like to see?" Sherlock asked. 

 

"How about the restaurant? You did suggest we get dinner."

 

"Which one do you want to go to, then?" Sherlock said. "There's Italian... Asian fusion... American... Indian... Caribbean... Mexican..."

 

"There's that many?" his eyebrows rose. "Er... How about Asian fusion."

 

"Anything you want, love," Sherlock grinned, turning them back toward the main building. "I expect we'll be trying out all of them while we're here."

 

"I can't wait for that," he grinned.

 

"I'll even eat for you," Sherlock laughed. 

 

"You will? Good!" John beamed as they entered the restaurant.

 

"Well I know it worries you when I don't eat, and I don't want you to worry about anything while we're here," Sherlock said.

 

John blushed and looked down at his feet as the hostess approached to seat them. "What are you blushing about?" Sherlock asked softly as they followed the hostess. 

 

"You love me," he smiled.

 

"Of course I do," Sherlock grinned.

 

John couldn't help but smirk as he placed Hamish in a highchair and sat down opposite Sherlock at the table. Sherlock handed John his menu and reached over to tickle under Hamish's chin. Hamish giggled and kicked his legs.

 

"Are you looking forward to our vacation, Misha?" Sherlock asked, tickling him again. Hamish squealed even louder and squirmed. "I'll take that as a yes," Sherlock grinned. 

 

John smiled behind his menu and tilted it just slightly to watch them. "You're so good with him."

 

"Thank you, love," Sherlock smiled.

 

"You are!" John chuckled, turning back to his menu. "He's lucky to have you for a father."

 

"He's more lucky to have you," Sherlock said. 

 

John blushed and hid his smile behind his menu. "Are you blushing, John?" Sherlock chuckled.

 

"Oh shut up."

 

"Come here," Sherlock grinned, leaning over the table. 

 

"What?" John smirked, leaning forward.

 

Sherlock kissed John sweetly, cupping his face. "I love you," he murmured against his mate's lips. John chuckled softly and returned the kiss.

 

"I love you too," he smiled.

 

Sherlock sat back and picked up his menu again, grinning at John. "I don't know what I ever did without you." 

 

John grinned and picked up his menu as well as their server approached. "I don't know either."

 

"Order whatever you'd like, love," Sherlock told him. John grinned and scanned down the menu.

 

"What are you thinking?" 

 

"Mmmmm.... I think I'll have the cashew chicken." 

 

Sherlock nodded. "I think I'll have the sushi plate."

 

John picked up his glass of water and took a sip as the waiter took the menus and left. "You're eating," he smiled. "Thank you."

 

"I told you I would," Sherlock said with a slight smile. "You're welcome." 

 

John put his water down and reached down to grab a container of cheerios, placing a handful on the highchair for Hamish to munch on. Sherlock smiled and brushed hair off of Hamish's forehead as he squealed with delight at his cheerios and promptly started to eat them and drop them on the floor in equal parts. John sighed and stooped to pick them up. "He's going to have to have etiquette lessons, isn't he?"

 

"Most likely..." Sherlock mused. "To be honest, I couldn't be bothered if he didn't have them." 

 

"He can't be throwing his food everywhere when he's out of the toddler stage."

 

"Then you can teach him his manners. I'd be rubbish at it anyway," Sherlock said. 

 

John rolled his eyes and smirked, "Yes, well, you seem to get on just fine."

 

"Yes, but I'm a rubbish teacher," Sherlock shrugged. 

  
"You don't have to teach him then," John shook his head.

 

“Exactly.”

 

The food arrived a few minutes later and John tucked in, the smell reminding him of just how hungry he actually was. Sherlock watched John as he ate, smiling at him softly. 

 

John paused mid-bite. “What?”

 

"You're just perfect," Sherlock grinned.

 

"No I'm not," he blushed.

 

"You are to me." 

 

John smiled and looked down at his plate. "Eat your food," was all he could say. Sherlock chuckled and ate a sushi roll.

 

“Do you like it?”

 

"It's excellent. How's yours, love?" Sherlock asked, taking another bite. 

 

"It's wonderful," he grinned.

 

"What about you, Misha? Are you enjoying your cheerios?" Sherlock asked. 

 

Hamish squealed his delight and launched a Cheerio in Sherlock's direction. Sherlock blinked as Hamish's cheerio hit him in the forehead. "He's got good aim." 

 

John burst out laughing, causing him to choke on his food. "He certainly does," he coughed as he took a gulp of water.

 

"Are you alright, love?" Sherlock asked worriedly. 

 

"Yeah, 'm fine," he said, finally catching his breath.

 

John resumed eating his meal and finished off his glass of water. "Do you want dessert, love?" Sherlock asked after John had finished. 

 

"I'm fine," John shook his head, stretching. "It's been a long day what with getting up so early to fly out. I'd like to just go to our room and relax."

 

"That can be arranged," Sherlock grinned. 

 

John returned the grin and reached over to take Hamish out of the highchair and clean him up while the waitress brought the check over. Sherlock charged the meal to their room and stood to stretch before picking up Hamish's bag. Hamish began to fuss again at being picked up and John rushed out to the front of the restaurant before anyone could stare. "Uh oh, I think it might be bedtime for someone."

 

"Not surprising. He's had a big, exciting day," Sherlock said.

 

"Come on, love. Please don't cry," John cooed, swaying Hamish back and forth. Sherlock slung the bag over his shoulder and bent down slightly to Hamish's eye level, beginning to play peek-a-boo with him. Hamish cried even louder and buried his face in John's neck.

 

"Let's get him outside," he murmured quickly. Sherlock nodded and ushered John outside. 

 

Once outside, John sat down on a bench and motioned for Sherlock to hand him the bag. "Bottle, please."

 

Sherlock fished in the bag a moment and pulled out a bottle, handing it to John. He coaxed the bottle into Hamish's mouth and after a few failed attempts, Hamish finally took the bottle and started to suck. "There we are," John said softly.

 

"All better, love?" Sherlock murmured to Hamish. "Is that a yummy bottle?" 

 

Hamish continued to suck, his eyes beginning to droop. "Let's start walking back," John nodded, standing carefully so as not to upset Hamish. Sherlock wrapped his arm around John's waist and led him in the direction of their villa. Hamish finished off the bottle and struggled to keep his eyes open.

 

"Don't fall asleep yet, love," John murmured, moving Hamish to his shoulder to burp him. John put the empty bottle back into the diaper bag when he was finished burping Hamish and readjusted his son in his arms so he could nod off.

 

"He's tuckered himself out," Sherlock said fondly as Hamish's eyes closed.

 

"He certainly has," John chuckled softly. "All that crying."

 

"Hopefully he'll sleep well tonight," Sherlock murmured. 

 

"I hope so too," John nodded.


End file.
